Extinguished Flame
by shortlived
Summary: During dark times Pyro meets up with his past... which brings with it a certain southerner.
1. Prologue

He could deal with a lot of things.

_Pain. _

He lived with it his entire life.

_Frustration._

He was walking agitation.

_Bitter Cold._

Chilly weather hadn't affected him since his early teens.

But it was hunger, hunger that quickly became ruler of him. That which controlled him and led him to do some really, _really_ stupid things.

He couldn't ignore hunger, not really. It would start as a grumble, work it's way into an empty pit that actually hurt when focused upon; and then lastly the urge would rise, the need for the filling of the appetite, the undeniable, unavoidable reaction that more often than not led him to getting into a lot of trouble.

That night was no different.

But if only it didn't lead into running into _her_.

_If only._

One could more than dwell on the if onlys lately.

_If only_ the mutant registration act hadn't passed.

_If only_ Sentinels weren't created and improved upon after every encounter.

_If only_ mutants weren't hunted down and killed.

_If only_ days weren't long and nights weren't so silent.

_**If only.**_

He unlike other's, actually had a place to get some _real _food rather easily. Maybe he should have gone into the gas station he passed by on the way, or the grocery store that looked relatively safe that night. But he didn't. For he was tired of canned food; greasy hot dogs and bitter coffee, _sick_ of pasteurized meats and dry bread. So he went to the only place he could.

Franks'.

How he had even made friends with the old man was a story in itself, how the guy and his wife actually tried to help him, and even fed him home cooked meals, was another thing entirely. Even if he did have to sit through their subtle religious hints, that made the food go down a little more quickly than it should have.

But he always went back when desperation for some sort of normal human contact took hold of him. It didn't happen often, but of course, that night, out of all the nights.. it had to happen.

_If only._

He knew something was wrong when he parked the car, he didn't even have to lean over to see that the lights weren't on. The cat that was usually lying in the window not there. He should have driven away then, shouldn't have taken the keys out of the ignition and walked to the front door, should have minded his own business and gone back to the gas station just a quarter of a mile away.

But he had a chance of being recognized every time he did that. Especially since they started installing the new "improved" security cameras; the ones that were linked to the mutant registration database that could snap your picture and alert the authorities before you even finished microwaving the cheap, rubbery cheeseburger that had a knack for always overcooking itself.

Yes, he had dealt with that before, even if he was getting better at avoiding the automated informers. One time though, he had nearly gotten himself killed, the only thing that had saved him was how the young kid behind the counter had started acting rather strange; looking at him even more openly necessarily for someone in his position. He had stared hard at that boy, making the kid gulp nervously as he backed away slowly from the counter. And that was when he knew.. The tremors started then as his would be captors arrived; chaotic actions that led him to his near capture..

But that was months ago, he had gotten less careless. Obsessively so.

So maybe the tiredness was what made him continue on, even thought maybe it should have made him do the complete opposite. He was knocking on the door before he even knew he was standing on the porch. He hadn't expected the thing to give out under the weight of his hard knuckles; the darkness to seem more complete as the night spread the moonlight into the usually warm doorway.

Emptiness.

And then he almost tripped. His head snapping downward, a rather natural reaction to such a thing.

_If only._

If only he hadn't looked down.

Frank and his wife Debbie.

_Dead._

He didn't have to lean down and check. He had seen enough death in the last two years, that recognizing it was second nature.

They had been killed. And he couldn't help thinking it was because of _him_.

The sounds rushed back to him that had been lacking since he discovered the bodies.

It was twisted bliss that filled him when he realized someone was behind him. Cold unrestrained anger that burned deep and hard that got him moving fast and out of the way of the first bullet shots. The feeling of the lifeless bodies behind him that kept him going forward.

Fire burned relentlessly, thrusting forth and around him as he lit it from a flamethrower that he had customized himself when the nightmare started. It worked flawlessly, giving him what he needed, fueling his retribution, burning through the fire proof clothing of the mutant catching militia, material that might as well have been cotton.. Yells and screams filled the air. Fire continued to build until it smoldered and died, thick smoke taking its place.

No one was moving any more.

No human anyway.

That was when the Sentinels appeared out of the night sky. The ground shaking underneath his feet as they landed. His breathing already strained, his vicious smile of victory fading into a loathsome frown, until it turned upwards into a crazed grin.

He could take them too.

He cursed loudly, shouting obscenities at the towering tin men. Their only response was a synchronized command for surrender. He told them loudly what he thought of that idea. And showed them his answer just as swiftly.

Two were taken care of, not as quickly as he would have liked, but they still weren't going to be getting up off the street unless someone brought along a king Kong sized spatula with them.

But there was still one left.

And he could barely stand. His vision a cloudy thing, that seemed worse in the darkness.

That's when he decided to make a run for it.

He didn't get far.

Another Sentinel appeared in front of him. And soon enough he was blocked in.

Closer they came to him. He backed up only to back into the other. Until he couldn't move.

"Surrender Mutant."

Sensations came back to him as he felt a cool breeze move his jacket against him, his fingers feeling as if they were made of elastic, his arms no better. He could use a good stretch, a couple hours of sleep. And.. some food.. But then he realized.. He was no longer hungry. Not in the least.

He laughed rather painfully then.. It echoed strangely through him. Stopping suddenly when visions of what was in the house behind him came into his minds eye. He straightened out, lashing out his right hand as a flame built and exploded in front of him.

He felt the heat for one intense second. He welcomed it, welcomed the end that would be by his own hands; knowing it would be moments before it engulfed him and the Sentinels as well. But then something crashed into him, at the same time a flash of red shot above his head.. He heard commands being shouted in an assured, controlled voice.

A _familiar_ voice. One from his past.

His body was still moving, but not by his doing. The ground rushed underneath him, scenery changing as it was replaced by new surroundings. Until the world slowed down and centered. He was then dropped rather roughly onto the ground.

"I got him."

He turned to look at whoever was speaking, but all he saw was a flash of blue bleeding into the darkness, heading toward the sounds of battle off in the distance. He turned around once more, trying to stand and failing. His vision circling around him.

"Y'ok?" John? "A hesitant pause. "... Pyro?"

Gently hands on his arm, someone leaning down on the ground near him. His vision trying to focus on the person before him, his ears taking in the sound of the voice.

_Her _voice.

_That_ voice.

_If only._

If only he hadn't passed out.


	2. Haven 1

John had been awake for the last five minutes, standing for the last two. His head was clear, his balance steady enough. He couldn't help but take in the room he was now in, the barracks that was lined with beds; medical equipment, folded pillows and blankets in the far left corner.

He was the only occupant, and that suited him just fine. Rotating slowly he took the rest of the area in, nothing but the same, bed after bed. There were no windows, and the only door was the one that he was now looking at. He walked toward it slowly, it looked to be made out of thick metal, the kind that even he would have a problem with.

But it had a lock. And that made a difference.

John still had his attention on the door, and couldn't stop himself from backing away a couple steps when the handle started to twist and turn, the door opening slowly. Lights shattered through the dim room he was in, one shining directly in his eyes before it faded away to a figure standing in front of him.

His right hand came up deftly, ready and... empty. His flamethrower gone, normally he would have had a backup lighter in his pants pocket, another small lighting device hidden in the bottom of his shoe. But the first thing he had figured out when he had finally came out of his deep heavy sleep, was the fact that he wasn't wearing any of his original clothing, and that all his toys had been taken from him. But that hadn't quite registered with him yet.

But he knew it would take more than that to stop him from trying something.

"You're awake."

It was that familiar voice again, and now a familiar face. Scott Summers. Clad in all black, in uniform, not the usual X-men one, but it wasn't exactly the time to be advertising who they were, for after all, the X-men were still highly sought by the government. He still wore the usual sunglasses, and John had almost forgot how much he hated the ruby things; for the man was stoic enough without having the ability for more of his expressions to be hidden.

"Noticed did you? What are you _watching_ me!? Afraid I might do some damage to this dump of yours?" He angled his head to the side, his mouth taking on a sneer. He was having a difficult time controlling his hands, they were wanting him to do something, something other than standing there having a pathetic chat.

Summers just stood there impassively, looking at him in a rather watchful manner.

"_Still_ have an attitude problem I see, would have thought you would have grown out of that by now."

John's eyebrows rose at that. He couldn't help but feel a sense of strange irony from the chastisement.

"This coming from a guy who's supposed to be dead."

"Yeah well, not everything is permanent."

"Obviously." John said dismissively, walking away and sitting on the bed he had woken in moments prior. Questions were forming in his brain. Several. But he shoved them down and stuck with just one.

"How did you guys find me?"

Scott came towards him a ways, looking down at him.

"We have the ability to track Sentinels. " He shrugged his shoulders. "Not as well as we would like but well enough.. good thing too.. you looked like you could use some help."

John scoffed at that.

"I was doing just fine."

"Sure you were, if your goal was to _die_."

He didn't say anything to that. Just stared hard at the tiled floor. His eyes wanted to avert to the door that had been left open or even Scott who was still standing in front of him. He calculated what could be done, a scenario running through his head at top speed, figuring out what it would take, where it would get him. It was during that that he spotted his shoes tucked to the left of the bed, then when his spirits started to rise and when he felt an ounce of much needed control shift inside of him.

"So why did you bring me _here_?"

"Would you have preferred we left you?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On how hard it's going to be to get out of here."

"You're not a prisoner John, you can leave whenever you want." Scott chuckled. "Of course you will have to be escorted off base blindfolded, mind wiped and left back right where we found you.. "

"Mind wiped? Might be fun watching you try.. you forget who I used to work for... "

"Who now works with _us_.. we are all on the same side now John.. all fighting for survival.."

John stifled a laugh that started and ended in the bottom of his throat.

"Yeah well I don't think we're going to be having a slumber party any time soon." He drew his arms across his chest, sitting up a little straighter, his bare feet sliding toward him.

There was a long pause. And John felt himself being scrutinized again.

"Did you know the couple.. the Geary's?"

His head came up further at that.. his breathing became more laborious and he found himself fighting back the urge to choke.

"I _**don't**_ want to _talk_ about that."

"Did you kill them?"

The question was asked so straightforward, just slipped in and left there hanging in the air. He _almost_ couldn't believe it. His eyes locked onto Scott. His adrenaline free flowing through his body. He didn't stop himself when he jumped up, didn't restrain himself when his fist balled up and made contact with Scott's face.

He watched as the X-man stumbled back a ways, watched as the glasses came flying off landing behind the two.

Watched as Scott opened his eyes.

And nothing.

Just regular eyes.

John should have felt stunned at the least, but one thing he had learned through the years if anything, was that the X-men were nothing, if not full of surprises. Something that had caused him many problems in the past whenever he had the misfortune to cross their path.

"I didn't.. " he stopped and took a deep breath. " I _**didn't**_ kill them.. but I _have _killed before and I _**can**_ kill again." His exasperated words left his mouth, his hand reeling with a numb pain. His threat floating in the air toward its intended.

Scott wiped his mouth off, blood staining the back of his palm. John knew he could handle him, powers at his disposal or not. But before he could make any other move, someone came bounding into the room, a stocky guy who looked at the ready to do something. Preferably towards him.

Pyro's mouth curved upwards, his right eyebrow rising as well. Letting the person know he was more than welcome to try.

"Scott? You Ok?"

Scott looked toward the speaker.

"I'm fine.." His attention drifted back on John. "We were just talking.. You can leave Carlos."

"But Scott..."

"Now. Please. And shut the door behind you."

"Fine but I'm here if you need me."

The man walked out of the room quickly, but not before shooting another hostile look in his direction. The door clicked shut, causing John's anger to rise. They just didn't know who they were dealing with. Or maybe they did. And _that _was the problem.

"I'm assuming that those Geary's meant something to you, and because of that I am going to let you get away with what you just did.." Scott stepped closer to John, standing directly in front of him, mere inches away, appearing unfazed and unconcerned about his proximity to a potential hostile person. "But _know_ this, I do _not_ tolerate _any_ kind of dishonorable behavior here, " Scott's voice became lower, his words coming out sharp and clear. " and if I hear so much of a whisper that you were any way involved with these peoples death, or are any kind of traitor.. well then we _will _finish this.. and I promise you that when that happens you'll get more than just words from me."

Scott slowly backed away, reaching down he grabbed his glasses. The X-men managed to keep an eye on him at the same time, obviously mindful that John might try something. Looking almost disappointed when he didn't.

_Not just yet. _

"I suggest you cool down some and think things through.. You'll be staying here for now, and it would be in your best interest to not try to leave this room."

John did nothing but stand there in silence. Fuming as he did so. His chest rising and falling from the deep breaths he was taking in.

Scott reached the door, his hand on the knob, shifting he looked over his shoulder at John.

"Oh, and _welcome _to Haven One." He smiled, a gesture that looked far from sincere. With that he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.. A sharp snap preceded the action, and John knew he was locked in.

He decided right then it wouldn't be for long.


	3. Near Freedom

Twenty seconds after the door shut he went into action. Circling around where he stood, his eyes digging and probing more deeply into the room he was in. Stepping to the left, walking forward for a ways until he came face to face with the object of his search.

The security camera.

He had learned a lot from working with Magneto- many a trick, been taught things that came in handy on more than one occasion. Locating electrical devices was one of them. He brought his body backwards, pivoting he walked back over to the bed, sitting down softly, leaning over, the tip of his fingers feeling his shoes. Dragging them toward him, he lifted them up, a small smile spreading across his face.

The weight was still balanced correctly; his right shoe was still heavier than the left. Something that nobody would know except him. John made a show of slipping the things on his feet, snapping on and off the bottom of his shoe in a quick flash; grabbing the miniature lighter and putting it into the waist of his pants. Next, using one of his fingernails, he slid a small object out of the tip of his shoe, a thin, highly dense piece of specialized glass.

He slid that into his sleeve.

Standing up slowly, he decided on whether or not to disable the camera, but then finally figured that they would expect him to try to break out, and if he damaged their little surveillance equipment, they would be more likely to come and try to stop him.

So he let it be.

_That all happened over an hour ago._

John was sweating, had said every cuss word in the book and even made up some new ones. Ones that made him laugh half crazed as he tinkered with the door lock. His palms were slick, his small tool kept falling out of his hand; and to top it off he didn't seem to be getting anywhere.

The mechanism kept resetting itself every time he managed to get through one of it's mechanical layers. Whenever he heard a click, he felt it was taking his sanity with it, as he had to start all the way over from the beginning. The thing was _possessed_. Trained he had been, but not for a lock straight from the fiery pits of hell; designed by Satan itself.

He wanted to give up, wanted to give into something a little more _fun_. But he wasn't about to give away the fact that his powers were no longer incapacitated. And of course that made John want to bash the thing even more. Tear is out and melt it to down.

_Click._

His palm slipped with that, accidentally bumping into the edge of his glass pick.

And that somehow did it.

Freedom was just the turn of a knob away. And it _was_ turning.. only not by him. John's tool fell out from the pressure; he caught it with the flick of his hand, leaning down quickly he put it back in his shoe, getting back up he grabbed his lighter, palming it, knowing it might want to be used. For after all he wasn't just frustrated, he was _sorely _agitated and feeling more than a little antsy. And his anger was resurfacing, coming back along with the will to do something about it.

_Let's see what idiot is stupid enough to walk through that door._

He had been expecting many a different thing, many a different kind of person, but when the door finally opened- when he saw who it was, John's brow furrowed with confusion. A young girl. And of course she just had to have food with her. Something, that as his stomach grumbled, John realized he was more than wanting. She talked to the big guy that he had seen earlier, whispering something that sounded like reassurances.

And then she walked forward, finding John staring at her in what was definitely not a friendly way. Just because she was a kid didn't mean he was dropping his guard; she could be more than she appeared. Most people were.

"Who the hell are you?"

He smelled chicken and potatoes, saw the sprite that was sitting on the tray as well. The snickers bar and a large apple. For a minute it was all he saw. John could almost invision himself tearing into the food already, throwing it down his gullet with what looked like a nicely chilled soda.

But then he blinked. His focus drifting back upwards toward the young woman who was now speaking.

"She said you were a charmer. But now I think she was being sarcastic." The girl had a soft pleasing voice, one that went well with her strange violet eyes. Ones that were busy looking him over. "You hungry?"

They both knew he was, but he wasn't going to admit it. John placed his arms squarely across his chest. Whoever said it was right, he _was_ no charmer; unless he _really_ wanted something, and even then his mordant attitude would usually get in the way, _that _or his pride.

"Why don't you give it to the bulldog there. " He smirked. "Although he looks like he has had his fair share of food, _and_ some other people's as well."

The girl looked past her shoulder at the big man who was still standing defiantly in the doorway. She chuckled softy.

"Carlos? He's harmless. Well except to people he doesn't like." She frowned in afterthought, shaking her head. " ... And I guess he _doesn't_ like you very much.."

"I'm _heartbroken_."

She walked past him, oblivious to the small lighter he held tightly in his palm. How in just seconds he could do a_ great_ deal of damage.

_Soon. _He promised himself. _And then they'll regret coming across me._

"Carlos?" The girl called out.

The large man came into the room, she directed him toward the corner of the room. Carlos grabbed a small table, dragging it to where John was standing. Making sure it bumped into him before he was done.

"_Watch it_ Bulldog, you scratch _me_, you buy my reprisal."

"You _threatening_ me?" Large black orbs staring at him unblinking. A grin showing off what looked like very pointed teeth, that was supposed to faze him.

John didn't even flinch. He had seen worse things in his nightmares, and scarier things working for metal head.

"You _deaf_ as well as _dumb_? Or do I just need to speak _really_ loud?" His voice rose in volume with each word. Each syllable marked with pronounced exaggeration.

That did it. The man came lunging at him. Pushing the small table to the side to get to get to him.

"Carlos!" The girl stood between them. One hand balancing the tray, the other arm outstretched towards Carlos. "_What _do you think you're doing?"

"I think I am about to bash this guys brain in.. If he has any."

John scoffed at that as he rolled his eyes.

"As if you would know intelligence if it gave you a bloody nose. _Which_ I wouldn't mind doing.."

Carlos was about to say something once more, but the girl must have done something, something John couldn't see with her back facing him. The man walked away. Stopping he leaned against the far side wall, his withering gaze forward.

John directed himself back towards the girl who was now putting the tray down, grabbing a chair she put it in front of John. Away from the table which confused him somewhat.

"Would you sit please?"

He stared at her hard, wondering whether he was supposed to laugh, or be impressed with her boldness.

"Here? _Why_?"

She went back to staring at him. Silently standing there.

"They didn't tell you?"

"What _exactly_ were they supposed to tell me?"

"I though Mr. Summers would have told you.." She half whispered, more to herself than to him. Her head shifting as she looked back at him. "I am the one who helped you when they brought you in."

"Helped me?"

She swallowed.

"I'm a healer... that's what I do.."

It was his turn to look the girl over.

"Aren't you a little young?"

She shrugged at that.

"My mutation emerged early.. or so I am told.. " She paused, her face dropping downcast. "After my dad died I got my abilities.. I was eight then.. But that was over four years ago, and I have had much practice since- believe me."

He watched the girl speak, sadness made itself known in her young face before it drifted towards a more neutral emotion. John _almost_ felt sympathy.

"So will you sit down? I just want to help you. And then you can eat.. and everyone will be happy." She wasn't begging exactly, but she seemed more than a little hopeful that he would do as she asked.

He sat down, the thought of eating spurring his actions.

"What do I have to do?"

"Nothing. Just stay still."

She came toward him, her hands parted; palms straight out. She placed them at side of his head; nearly touching him, but not quite. Closing her eyes she started to breath slowly, yet steadily. A minute passed before she stopped. She exhaled slowly, smiling faintly.

"You're fine.. Still dehydrated and a little malnourished, but nothing that can't be cured on it's own. And you have gotten some good sleep, so that should help." John wondered how she knew that, and she must have picked up on his curiosity.

She bit her lip nervously.. "_I_ helped you sleep deeper.. You.. you needed it.."

She seemed to be waiting for his response at that. Not expecting a good one. But he _had_ slept well, _really_ well, better than he had in quite a while; and there didn't seem to be any ill effects from it, except that he had slept so long that he actually still felt a little tired.

"Well..."

"Glory.. my name is Glory."

"Did you do anything else to me that I should be concerned about?" He rose one eyebrow, one of his fingers tapping against his lower thigh, something that had been going on since he sat down. He _wasn't_ one for keeping still.

"Actually for what they said you went through- you were fine, except for some minor bruising which was easy enough to fix.."

"I guess you want me to thank you?"

"No.." She pointed towards the table. "I _want_ you to eat."

His gaze went past the girl.

"Well get rid of Bigfoot there and maybe my appetite will return."

The girl twisted her mouth, trying not to smile.

"It's a deal."


	4. Apple Pie

_Apples and Cinnamon. Burning haze of smoke that was spilling out of the kitchen into the hallway. Walking into the room, to find her there. An apron around her waist, a puzzled expression on her face as she leaned over and looked inside the stove._

_"Dang it!"_

_John waved his hand in front of him clearing out the cloudy air, an easy enough task that barely tugged at his mutation. If it had gotten any thicker she would have set off the fire alarms._

_Rogue straightened up with his entrance, her hand going to her stomach as she took in a deep breathe._

_"What are you doing up John? And what are you doing here?" Her questions, were very accusatory, but he didn't mind._

_"I'm hungry. A person usually goes to the kitchen when they discover that."_

_She frowned. Giving him a rather pointed look._

_"Spare the sarcasm. I am not in the mood." Her words had a rough edge around then that showed off agitation. "What time is it anyway?"_

_"4:12 when I came down."_

_She sighed at that. Leaning down once more after grabbing some oven mitts; she put them on and got what was inside the heated appliance; what looked to be a pie. And he only deduced that from the somewhat familiar scent, and the way the kitchen was messy with flour and apple peels, a couple cores and pieces of the fruit; some which was on the kitchen floor as well._

_Rogue placed the object on the counter. Staring at it with a severity that one usually saved for their most fearsome of enemies._

_He walked closer to where she stood, looking at her while her eyes were focused elsewhere. She had flour on her face, a small smidgen that was under her right eye. Her hair was coming down from the loose ponytail she had placed it in, and her cheeks were flushed, probably from leaning over the hot stove. _

_John finally looked down at the pie, a blackish, overly crusted, puffy looking thing, that looked as if it had too much of something added, or not enough of something else._

_"It's burnt." _

_Her head snapped up with that. Eyes burning._

_"I know it is burnt! Dang it!" She snapped. Her attention drifting back towards the offensive looking object. "And now it's too late t'try again, the breakfast crew will be gettin' up soon! Not that I would even bother tryin' again.. I would just waste even more apples!"_

_She slammed the oven door shut, and turned the appliance off with a forceful push of a button. Pulling off and throwing down the oven mitts on the counter, Rogue started to clean up. Roughly and franticly. John decided then it was a good time to make a sandwich, if anything, to get out of that vicinity that was radiating hostility._

_Not that he went far, preparing his food he stood there quietly. Munching away, leaning against the refrigerator as he chewed on his bologna sandwich. He had also grabbed a coke, which he was drinking as well, large gulps that went smoothly down his throat. _

_"So what are you baking at this hour for?" He spoke up, breaking the silence that had enshrouded them. His food was gone by then, and he found that he wasn't in any particular hurry to leave._

_"Bakin'?!" She scoffed. Taking the pie, turning it over and shoving the whole thing in the sink before she turned on the water and garbage disposal. "I can't bake!" _

_"So why are you trying?" He raised an inquiring eyebrow, watching as the pie was pretty much murdered; disappearing down the drain, a couple wet crumbs the only witness that is had been at all._

_John should had known what her reply was going to revolve around. Known what, or whom it had to deal with. So when she went on to explain how Bobby's birthday was coming up, how apple pie was something he said he had been missing from home, especially that of eating it for breakfast; he listened for a moment before tuning out a ways. The gushing, excited tone leaving her full lips, turning his stomach._

_"Why not just buy him one?" He asked, not knowing why anyone would want to go through so much trouble when the grocery store was just up the street. _

_'I wanted it to be special.. I wanted t'make it for him myself. But who am I kidding?! I'm pathetic! I can't even make a dang pie. And now I'll have t'figure out what else t'get.."_

_"Rogue?" His quiet tone made her stop mid sentence, her brown eyes catching his._

_"What?" She asked guardedly. Stiffening somewhat as he came closer to her._

_"He has you doesn't he! More than some others can say! He doesn't need some stupid, pathetic, piece of desert that was probably never as good as he thinks it was!"_

_He hadn't meant to say it quite that way. But it all came roaring out of his mouth with such a force that he couldn't stop. A part of John hoped that she didn't get what he had just said; didn't hear the jealousy in his voice that had been staying company with him lately. A year her and Bobby had been together, and the longer it lasted, the more it seemed to unsettle him._

_"John." She said, her voice a whisper from being stunned. "I think that was the sweetest thing you have ever said to me."_

_He winced at that._

_"Don't think it means anything! Just trying to make you stop your pitiful ramblings."_

_She looked at John, her first true observance of him since he had walked into the kitchen. He tried to look away from her, not wanting those eyes to find him, but they latched onto him, brown liquidy warmth that affected him more than he wanted them to. His stomach seemed to fall as her eyes wandered over him, quickly, yet freely. He stood up straighter, allowing her to as a half smile lifted up the corner of his mouth. He liked her looking at him._

_"I.. I guess we should get t'bed." _

_"Together or alone?"_

_She laughed at that. Bringing her hand forward to push him playfully but stopping. Rogue's bare fingers hovering in the air. Her eyebrows furrowing before she dropped her arm back to her side; her hands quickly tucking themselves self-consciously into her long red sleeves. _

_"Y'know what I meant John.." _

_Rogue started to tug on the apron strings on the back of her, but she didn't seem to be having much luck. He put his coke can down on the counter and walked towards her, turned her around before she could protest and started to work on the knots. Awareness coming inside of him, letting him know how close he was to her. Her pale skin not far below his mouth, the back of her neck free and intriguing. It didn't matter what touching Rogue meant; sometimes he thought about what it would be like to be pulled inside her as her mutation kicked in. _

_He finally worked her free. Stepping back, he heard her exhale a breath that she had been holding, something that made him feel some kind of disappointment. Rogue turned around, pulling the thing all the way off. A blush making it's way across her skin that seemed to intensify as she looked at him._

_"Thanks." She breathed out, putting the cloth on the counter behind her._

_"No problem." He paused, a smile showing up and staying on his face. "You ever find your self tied up again, or needing to be tied up... don't hesitate to call me."_

_Rogue huffed, rolling her eyes._

_"Goodnight John!"_

_And with that she left him in the kitchen, but not before turning the room's lights out as she left him in darkness; a soft chuckle leaving her mouth, that filtered back towards him._

_He grinned and went after her._


	5. Blinking

John woke with a jolt, his muscles tensing, his eye lids fluttering softly before he opened them wide. He hadn't been wanting to sleep. Hadn't been wanting to dream. Although it was more of a Technicolor memory than anything else. One that was gentle and soothing, warm and almost innocent.

_He hated those._

He wasn't one to dwell on the past. Sure when he first joined Magneto there had been some doubts. Erik Lehnsherr had been a hard man to work for, an even harder one to please. Such a complete reversal from Xavier's complimentary manner, that petted and stroked your ego. Always telling you what a good job you did, and even making your need for improvement sound like something you really, really wanted to do.

Mystique had trained him hand to hand; Magneto teaching him tactics, techniques, and ways to boost his powers. His doubts being left behind as he was worked and throttled into a different kind of person, one who would persevere and thrive in the Brotherhood.

It hadn't been an easy time. But John hadn't been expecting it to. Gaining their trust took a while, them gaining his even longer.

And then the cure came out of nowhere. Mystique's and Erik's humanity coming behind it. Him getting beaten and left for dead by the Iceman. If Blink; a young girl who had joined the Brotherhood just days before the incident, hadn't opened a portal and gotten him out of there, he would have surely been nothing more than dust.

They disappeared after that. Blink attaching herself to him in a rather timid, yet obstinate manner, that left him feeling some sort of obscene responsibility towards her.

"Please. " He could remember her begging. Her lilac skin and pink hair not quite as ridiculous looking as he had first thought from before she had saved his life. "I have no where else to go."

Three years they were together; him watching as the shy girl grew into a young, rather aggressive teenager. Her abilities coming in handy on more than one occasion, as they escaped easily enough whenever the wrong kind of people found them. John had managed to find Raven eventually; she had still been human then, but her fighting abilities were as sharp and deadly as ever, and she had been willing to teach the young Clarice how to fight. Something that took more than a little convincing since he had left her behind when she had been cured. But it seemed she blamed Magneto more than him.

_Letting Raven teach her was probably your first mistake._

John stopped himself. He knew where his thinking was going to lead him to. Knew the guilt, and the internal suffering; the agony and bitter emotions that left him feeling depressed and hopeless. He couldn't go there, not without a lot of liquor and a dark place to hide himself in.

He stretched forcefully, rolling his head back and forth to work out the kinks that had managed to get in his neck, and some of the thoughts that had found itself in his head. John almost missed sleeping in the back seat of his car, and still couldn't believe he was still at the X-men's base, couldn't _believe _he hadn't tried to escape again.

But after the lunch he had been given, and the dinner. He found he was also looking forward to breakfast.

_No harm in waiting. Just don't get used to it._

Glory had left behind a T. V., some books he would never read, and an old PSP along with a couple games. He would hand it to the X-men, they knew how to treat their prisoners. Although maybe he wasn't _quite_ that. Maybe just more of a captive. Yet, when he tried to distinguish between the two he found it somewhat hazy.

In between the meals he had watched the small television, something he hadn't done in quite a while. He couldn't stop himself as imagery made it ways through the tube into his brain; violence and hatred at the forefront; campaigns for new elected officials that actually were resting on their stance of mutantcy. Commercials of defensive products that guaranteed to stun any mutant that dared to get within five feet of you. Even movies and T. V. series, especially the modern ones that actually made references to mutants, ones that were filled with fear and anger. Everything overstretched and overplayed, and badly acted.

John should have turned the thing off after the first few minutes.

But it was sick interest that kept him glued to the screen, curiosity that had him barely acknowledging the hostile bigfoot guy as he slammed down his dinner in front of him. It wasn't till his eyes hurt, till he found his head falling forward and jerking back upwards, several times, that he acknowledged he had to sleep. A grudge against himself that he hadn't tried to get out of the room, instead of being mesmerized by the evil, malicious device that left him feeling unclean, and sick for not being able to turn away.

He really hadn't been needing an update on the world.

So he crashed on the cot, grabbing the sheet at the end and pulling it over him. Tossing and turning before he drifted off unwillingly. Only to awaken.. Back where he started. But really, where did he think he was going to be? Where had he _hoped_ he was going to be?

After the dream he half expected to have waken up in his old comfy bed at the Xavier's mansion. To be seventeen and the same arrogant kid that expected the world to align itself to him. A kid who would always wait _just_ one more day before he gave Rogue a real reason to ditch the respectable Bobby; an altogether too nice guy that just happened to be one of his only friends.

John went to the bathroom, finding fresh towels and washcloths on the sink. A new toothbrush, a fresh tube of toothpaste and a bar of soap. Some deodorant and a fresh change of clothes. Even a comb. And some shampoo.

_Just how long do they think I am going to be here?_

He stared at the things for a while, then went to looking at his reflection in the mirror, one that seemed to appear cocky and aloof; but he knew himself well, knew the uncertainty it held back with near perfection. John also observed that he could use a good shave, but of course out of all the things they provided a razor hadn't been part of it.

_Figures._

John decided brushing his teeth couldn't hurt. After he was done with that, the towel caught his attention. His fingertips resting on the edge of the fluffy thing; the tactile contact of the soft object setting off a battlement of internal arguments. An odor coming off of him as he inhaled deeply.

He decided then a hot shower couldn't hurt either.


	6. His Life

To find another female, one who was leaning a little too casually against his table, was something John really didn't need. She had headphones on her ears, was tapping her right foot, and looked more than a little bored. He stood still for a moment, his hand going to his mouth as he considered things. Wondering why they kept sending woman his way, although maybe that was a way of trying to soften him up. For neither one of them had been an eye sore. And now they seemed to sending ones closer to his age.

John strode forward once more, his bare feet treading softly across the floor. Walking behind the girl, on the opposite side of the table; he put his hands underneath, applying pressure as he tilted the thing forward. The girl slid forwards with a surprised shriek, her hands waving she tried to grab onto something; but that didn't stop her momentum any, nothing did but the floor that she plopped down onto, a nice solid thump sounding off as she did so.

"What the heck!" The girl jumped to her feet, her headphone cord tangled around her and what looked to be an mp3 player landing near her shiny black boots. Her eyes flashing with anger until they widened a little, her bright red mouth extending upwards until she wore a large beaming smile.

"Wow." She stared at John, starting with his slicked back wet hair, working her way downwards slowly, until they reached his bare toes that were peeking out from under his long pants. "And I didn't want to come here! What a mistake _that _would have been."

She didn't give him a chance to say anything, still talking as she bent down and picked up her mp3 player, slowly, her tight outfit tugging at her body. Something she seemed more than aware of. Ignoring the table that was still overturned she righted herself, throwing her long hair behind her shoulders while walking towards John.

"I'm Jeza, Scott sent me to give you a tour. Although why _you_ would want one. They said you used to be with the Brotherhood. Must have been interesting, although that Magneto guy can be pretty intense sometimes.. "

Jeza was coming toward him still speaking, a wave of energy along with her. He could do nothing but step back a little, repulsed by all the talkativeness.

"Do you ever shut up?" He interrupted. Looking behind her, wondering why the guard dog hadn't come in yet. Wishing that he would. "Where's my cage keeper?"

"Oh, Scott said you didn't need one. That is you tried anything I could test out my stunning ability on you. Although I think I have got that down pretty much, and I could always.."

"You're speaking again. _A lot_."

She tilted her head to the side. The happy expression dimming somewhat until she actually looked halfway tolerable.

"I usually don't. Only with people I don't know..." She paused, a leering smile appearing on her face again. "..Yet." She finished, a tone of hopefulness planted in the one word. "Do you want to tour or not? Could just leave you here for another day. Although it looks like you broke the TV."

John didn't bother looking, he didn't really care. He was thinking about finally getting out of the room.

"I'll get my shoes."

* * *

It was a vast place, one with weaving tunnels and hidden areas; plenty of space and many different rooms. The longer he walked the more he was sure they were underground, and the more it seemed like everything had been carved out of some kind of stone, intricately woven and planned.

Jeza wasn't talking as much as she had initially; she had gone to guide mode, offering small comments here and there, watching John with subdued fascination. They had passed a person here and there, one's who gave him disinterested glances as they walked by him, most not even bothering with that. Everyone seemed to have a purpose, a destination and a job. The air was heavy with activity, which the girl told him was due to some sort of safety drill.

"I got out of it this time, usually I have to lead all the kids to the top, but Rogue took over for me.. " Jeza's words started out normal enough, but when she started to talk about the southerner, her tone took on an edge to it. "The kids like her more than me anyway.. " She took a lengthy pause, her steps becoming quicker as she led him down to a room at the end of a hall that they were in. "So you want some breakfast?"

* * *

Breakfast ended up being a fruit bar and a bottle of orange juice, which they grabbed from a long metal table in what was a huge dining area, one filled with a great number of empty chairs. In fact they were the only ones there. Jeza picked a small table near the back, which she motioned for him to sit down at. He did, but not before turning the chair over and straddling it.

"Is this the extent of breakfast?" John waved around the fruit bar before throwing it down on the table, dissatisfied. "I can do better on my own."

Jeza shrugged it off.

"It depends on who's turn it is to prepare the food. Although usually breakfast's _are_ simple, except on Sundays." She took a small sip of her orange juice, peering over the container at him. "So... you used to live with the X-men?"

He didn't respond to that. Just offered her silence. So she tried a more confrontational tactic. One that worked immediately.

"Rumor is that you betrayed them... that you.."

"Betrayed them?" John cut her off. Standing up leaning over on the table toward the woman. Glaring down at her. "They would say something like that. Always thinking about how it affects them, never considering the individual. I didn't _betray_ them. I would have betrayed _myself _if I had stayed with them!"

He grabbed his orange juice off the table, throwing it into a near by trash can.

"Now why don't you show me the way out of here."

His words were beyond a threat. They were an order. Her eyes went wide, light reflecting off them from the fire that was now blazing in the palm of his hand. Hovering inches from his skin.

"You aren't _doing_ anything." He chided her.

She remained seated, unmoving. Looking at him a little more calmly than he liked.

"I can't let you leave ...not yet." She finally whispered, rotating between starting at the ball of fire and at his face. Jeza made a sudden movement with one of her fingers, a thin object shooting out of it. He didn't flinch when he forced fire to engulf it; they both watched as it burned quickly and then fell as ashes down to the tiled floor, nothing more than a dying ember.

John stared at her for a couple longs moments, studying her carefully. If he had met her at some dark bar, he would have thought more of her, maybe even done something about they way she kept glancing at him. Even if she wasn't really his type. Too skinny. Too made up. Although her chest was rather well equipped, and that always counted for something.

Jeza turned her head to the side, and then behind her. He extinguished his flame, taking off while she was distracted. Making it through all the chairs and tables. Making it to the open doorway. Only to crash right into something. No _someone_. Or more like someone's extended knee, one that was attached to a body that was now leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Goin' somewhere Mon ami?"

He backed up, his lighter in his hand opening. A man coming toward him, all trench coat, bright devilish eyes, and a half empty bottle of apple juice in his right hand.

"What took you so long? You were supposed to be watching us, not taking a coffee break!" Jeza said, who was coming quickly behind him. She stopped a ways back, when the man waved his hand in front of him, signaling her to stop. She did so with a rather loud huff.

"Sorry, dere Jeza. Remy didn't know you were goin' t'engage him while he grabbed somethin' t'drink, 'sides.. didn't you say you didn't need Remy's help?" He turned towards John. Smiling wide. "Hey dere Pyro. Been a while hasn't it?"

John looked back over his right shoulder at Jeza, who was watching them with interest, she didn't waste that opportunity as she flashed a smile his way. He turned his attention back to the front, but not before given the young woman a disgusted scowl.

"Gambit." He lowered his hand down, straightening up a little. "What are you doing here? Didn't know _you_ were a team player." He hadn't seen the guy in quite a while, he had been an odd job man for Magneto, not exactly one of the Brotherhood, but still someone that Erik had thought handy. And even someone John had gotten along with relatively well. Suddenly the lock on his room door started to make more sense.

"Well if y'saw some of the people y'get t'team up with, 'specially the femmes," He looked past John, winking at Jeza. "Y'would understand why Gambit became a little more willin'"

Jeza sighed behind him, walking past the two men. She stopped at Gambit's side, leaning her body into him a little more than she needed to.

"He's all your's Remy." Jeza purred in the Cajun's ear. "Maybe I'll see you later _Pyro_. I've always did like playing with fire." She looked him up and down one more time before she pivoted and sashayed away.

The two men watched her leave. One with more interest than the other.

"Better watch out for that one." Gambit said, turning toward's John, catching his attention. "She like's playin' with people. 'Specially usin' her abilities."

"Abilities?" John scoffed. "Putting people to sleep?"

Gambit sneered, shaking his head. An indulgent look on his face.

"She's a shape shifter as well. A _talented_ one. An' looks like she _wants_ you."

"Well all _I_ want right now is to get out of here. Not play footsy with some metamorphic mutant."

Gambit smiled at that. Standing up, drinking the rest of his juice with a couple loud gulps. He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand, throwing the bottle in a near by trash can.

"Well den, all y'got to do is talk t'Summers, den y'can do whatever y'want, but y'may find y'want to stay, better than playin' hide and seek with de humans."

"Maybe, maybe not. Might as well get the lecture over with so I can go on with my life."

Gambit looked at him through half closed eyelids, studying him carefully.

"Well den. Follow Remy."

* * *

It took them less than two minutes to make it to wherever they were going. What ended up being a smaller room not that far away. There were computers and other equipment inside, a large round table with a bunch of empty chairs. They went further, walking through it all, drifting to the left till they reached a door that was slightly open, soft murmuring of voices was coming out, a low splash of light as well.

"Dere y'go." Gambit said, pointing towards the door. He pushed it open a ways. "Just go 'n. He's expectin' you."

The Cajun waited for him to walk through it, and then he took off, leaving John to the inevitable.

"Well John, see you finally made it here." Scott was sitting behind a small desk, he had been talking into some sort of head piece. He took it off after saying a couple quick words. Shutting the laptop he had been using he watched John approach. "Why don't you sit down. We can talk."

John just stood there, unwilling to comply any further.

"Stand if you want." His old teacher said, looking as if he had accomplished something.

For the next twenty minutes Scott droned on. And _on_. John couldn't help but think the guy was speaking terribly slow as well, as if trying to stretch out everything as long as possible; anything to create further discomfort for him. His legs were stiff, he felt an ache working it's way towards his temple. And John's ears started the habit of only taking in every other word.

Scott seemed to be finally winding it down.

"I don't expect you to jump into what I am purposing with alacrity. But you could be a great asset to what we are trying to accomplish. You may even find eventually that you even like here." He smiled genuinely at John, before his mouth evened out into a straight line. "But staying won't be easy. There are no freeloaders here, and we expect one to work for what they receive. As I have already said. _If_ you were listening."

Scott finally stopped speaking, getting up from behind the desk as he walked around it.

"So do you want to stay? Help mutants like yourself? Or do you want to go back up there." He pointed above his head. "Living only for yourself? It's your choice John." Scott took a couple steps back, sitting down on his desk, waiting.

John licked his dry mouth, swallowing hard, allowing his body to finally shift a little.

"How long would I have to stay?" His mouth opened and asked, his voice scratched and pained, as if even voicing the question, was a painful thing.

"This isn't some kind of contract, you stay for as long as you want." Scott's eyebrow rose, his mouth tugging upwards, before it dropped back down. "Or as long as you are _able_."

He really didn't know what he wanted, whether he wanted to stay or not. There wasn't much to look forward to, going back up into the world. John knew that. But he knew at least it would be all _his_ life, all _his_ choices, everything, every consequence because of him himself. He always hated being any kind of team player, any kind of order taker. At least Magneto had been training him to be someone better than that, someone who could, if they chose be a leader.

John frowned at that. Yes, Magneto had taught him a lot. _Yet_. He also _took_ a lot from him. The last thing being.. _her_. And that had been when he went of the deep end, when he almost dared the humans to catch him; dare them to even make any sort of contact with him. He had made the news a lot then, surely the X-men must have seen that. Seen him reveling in all his destructive habits; injuring, hurting, even killing those that had gotten in his way. Probably because of him, and others like John, the mutant hunt had intensified.

_Why would they want anything to do with you? Are they desperate?_

A movement got him out of his internal thinking; Scott straightening up a ways till he was standing upright, a soft fuzzy look going over his face before it hid itself away. Someone was coming into the room.

John found himself actually curious who it was. Who had the ability to make that dopey look filter through the usual stolid X-man? He had heard rumors of Jean being alive, but he had never really considered them. Although Scott had been _supposed_ to have been killed by Jean, and _he_ was still alive, so couldn't Jean be still breathing as well?

_Everything is too confusing nowadays._

He decided to turn around to find out. After all that was the easiest way.

"Scott do y.." the words stopped as suddenly as they began. Green eyes glaring at him. Coldness in them that made them seem more intense. He felt his mouth was hanging open a ways, but it was just a phantom feeling, one that was trying to compensate for the shocked feeling he was experiencing.

_Since when did Rogue have green eyes?_


	7. One Night

"I need a room." John barked, exasperated. "_Now_."

The old man behind the counter, woke up with a twitch. Mumbling something, he stood upright, pushing the stool he had been dozing on back at a leisurely pace before addressing him.

"How long you planning to stay?"

John looked around the crap hole that passed itself as a hotel. A small check in area, a couple dingy sofas off in a larger room. And women, ones who wore just enough clothes to be considered, not _naked_, sitting at a grungy looking, overly dim bar. One caught the sight of him, standing up she stretched, observing him with interest.

_"You leaving John?" Glory asked coming toward him, in what the X-geeks considered a garage. If it had been any bigger, Malls would have been jealous. And John swore he saw the tip of a jet wing sticking out from around the corner._

_"Yeah. I'm leaving." He raged. Finally finding his car. His keys in his hand. Even his flamethrower had been given back to him, which he hadn't wasted any time reattaching. John saw his vehicle was somewhat banged up, deep scratches along the hood of the black car, yet he knew it could have been worse; he could fix it. _

_A hand came upon his back, making him turn around._

_"You aren't just leaving because of Rogue are you?" Glory paused, as if considering whether or not to tell him something. She continued slowly. "She's going through some things right now, I am sure that she didn't mean to be so cold. She.." _

_"News travels even faster here than it did at Xavier's." John wasn't liking that the girl thought he was leaving because of Rogue. He had never planned on staying anyway. He couldn't. _

_Glory blanched at what he had said, her skin actually losing all it's color. She even looked as if she had stopped breathing. Her hand going to her chest, staying there for a moment. Her eyes closing before they opened again. _

_"Rogue and I are friends. She talks to me." Her voice became low, her head darting side to side as if to see if anyone else was in the large expanse that passed itself as a garage. "Things have been hard for her since Logan and the Professor disappeared last month." Her mouth became a thin line, her eyebrows knitting tensely. "Even before that. I am sure that.."_

_He interrupted her unintentionally, biting off her words. A laugh resonated from him, echoing around the area before ricocheting back towards them, crashing into what he said next._

_"Don't any of you guys stay dead? I thought Xavier was killed by Jean."_

_"He had been.. in a way." Was all the girl offered. Watching as John turned back around, fitting his key back in the lock. Turning it and finally opening the door, he sat down. He found the seat was further back than he was used to, the wheel higher up as well. He adjusted them, annoyed._

_"You're going aren't you?.. Still?" Glory murmured. Taking a couple steps forward, her small fingers wrapping around the curve of his still opened door. "It's not safe out there. I don't think you.."_

_"I'm going. I'm not wanted here. Only my powers are."_

_"That's not true." _

_He chuckled. Closing his door slowly so that she had enough time to remove her hand._

_"It is." He stared at the young girl, her eyes wide. Sadness in her features along with regret. John put his keys in the ignition, satisfied when the thing roared to life. He started to move forward. Feeling better already._

_"Wait!" He heard a scream. A hesitant yell that got him applying the brakes. Glory came running to him, he lowered the window._

_"What?"_

_"I am supposed to give this to you." She handed him a small phone, forcing him to take it. "So you can reach us in case you want to come back- or need help." Glory reached into her left pants pocket, pulling out something. "And take this." She thrust a wad of cash through the window trying to hand it to him. But he just stared at her hard._

_"I don't need your money." He spat. Strange guilt in him when her mouth opened and closed, her eyes glinting with tears. He softened his voice. Pushing the money back towards her. "I have enough of my own." John awkwardly grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. And letting go. "But thanks.. Thanks for caring Glory."_

_Her eyes widened. Her lips turning upwards, a small smile transforming her young face. _

_"You're welcome. John." _

_With that he took off, gunning the engine, sprinting forward with reckless speed. An exit appearing before him. The night catching him and his car in a welcoming embrace. He spared a glance in the rearview mirror; only to find nothing awaiting his vision but a huge boulder, one that John believed he had actually came out of. But it showed no signs that he had, no giveaways that it was a entryway to a hidden enclave. _

_John averted his attention, speeding up even further. His hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel as he tried to get past the feeling that he was running from something. _

"Just one night." John came out of his thoughts. His voice low and scratched.

"You have to pay in advance." The geriatric said firmly. His eyes turning into thin slits as he looked at him. Not knowing that John could have bought the establishment many times over and been left with some change. Like he told Glory, he was _beyond_ broke.

"Fine." John said, throttling his anger. His fingers pressing firmly against the counter top. "How much?"

"$36.50. Checkout is at noon."

He grabbed some money out of his pocket, finding two twentys he planted them down.

"Keep the change." He said curtly, grabbing the key that was handed to him. Picking up his small bag off the floor, he turned around to walk towards the elevator. One that John would have been surprised if it worked.

_But what do you expect, you can't stay just anywhere._

"Need company honey?" A woman stood in his path, the one who had been eyeing him earlier. She had her hips tilted to the side, an overly suggestive look adorned on her slightly parted lips. "Someone to keep you warm?"

"Maybe if you were twenty years younger." He said sourly. Sidestepping the woman. A part of him halfway amused, but mostly disgusted. The dim lighting didn't help her or her wrinkles any. He'd had better offers by men, not that he went that way.

"Jerk." She yelled at his departing back.

"Whore." He threw back.

"Yeah well at least I make money off of who _I_ am."

He stopped. Turning to look at the female. She tensed. Backing up a ways when she caught his scorching look, one that was building.

"Not from _me_ you won't."

She did the smart thing and didn't say anything back. John continued on his way.


	8. No Loss

John didn't think it possible, but the room he found himself, a small thing that only held one bed, was actually nicer than he presumed. It held a scent of smoke and cleaning disinfectants both which he didn't really mind, and even a bed which looked halfway comfortable.

Not that he was there to sleep. Or was he? He didn't know what he was doing, why he had stopped, why he hadn't just slept in his car like he had before the whole X-men meeting. Maybe it was because it suddenly felt cramp and tight, a suffocating space that was making him feel tense and jittery.

He threw his bag on the bed, crashing down in a chair near it. John kept it dark, the only light showing was that which filtered through the cheap, thin curtains that covered his window. It was adequate enough.

_"Y'should go."_

He heard the words, as if a ghost was in the room with him, whispering things that floated into his ear canals, mixing with electrical impulses in his brain that made it seem so real.

_Rogue didn't look much different, after all the years she still looked the same. Her hair was shorter, just below her chin. She wore clothes that still covered her, yet they were more form fitting, showing that her figure had filled out rather well, and that her taste had improved. John also found her more confident, more assured, a rather appealing quality that had him staring even longer than he used to._

_She turned away, walking towards Scott, whispering something to him, causing the X-man to go to his desk, open a drawer and pull out what looked to be some sort of key card. Handing it to her, she thanked him softly, shifting so that she was facing John, although she wouldn't look at him, and didn't, not until he blocked her path, not until his mouth opened._

_"What not even going to say hi?" He suddenly felt the need for her to say something, to acknowledge him further, even glaring at him again would have been better than nothing. _

_Rogue stood there for a moment, as if considering things. Scott behind her, trying to appear as if he wasn't interested in what they were saying. Finally her head came up, slowly, until her gaze met his._

_"Why should I bother! The last time I saw y'an tried t'say somethin' t'ya y'tried to kill me." There was fire blazing in her eyes. An intensity that spurned John on. His mouth curved upwards, amused. _

_"I wasn't trying to kill you, just stop you." He said with mirth, having the weird sensation of being rooted to the stop, unable to cease his eyes from taking her in, his ears from listening to her southern drawl that poured out from her full, glossed lips._

_"Oh Yeah? Y'do know there is supposed to be a difference between the two right?" Her eyes narrowed as she continued to speak, not allowing him a word in edge wise.. "Y'aren't plannin' to stay are y'Pyro? I mean we have enough crap goin' on without havin' to worry about someone who is supposed to be our team mate, leavin us for the enemy." She sneered, a callous look that hardened her face. "Although I don't think even the F.O.H. would want you."_

_"Rogue." Scott said, coming behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, not done yet._

_"Y'don't belong here. We don't need you. Y'should go."_

So she hadn't said much to him, but what she had had actually reached a part of him, a part that he had covered, buried under molten rock that he had created inside of him. The vulnerable part, the part that could hurt. And John couldn't get out of him how she looked at him, so cold and hostile, so angry and unforgiving. Maybe her outward appearance hadn't changed that much, but the Rogue he had known, the Rogue he had thought about every once and again seemed gone. And he couldn't get past that. A part of him always believing that maybe some inevitable day he could show her how much he had wanted her. But maybe that was the key phrase. _Wanted_. Past tense. And it _had_ just been a crush. A stupid, teenage crush that had bled into his adulthood, taking on a larger than life of it's own that blurred until it became part of the unreal, and unattainable.

He _didn't _want her, he _wanted _the idea of her. And it seemed he couldn't even have that anymore. Not that she was the core to his existence, the reason he took every breath and strove to live each day. She wasn't. Never had been. Never would be. He barely thought of her as it was. It wouldn't be much of a loss.

_No loss at all._

John heard footsteps approaching, a low hum of conversation that was becoming increasingly louder. One voice stood out among the others, a woman who was whispering, yet her words carried.

"Yeah, I thought he looked familiar, wasn't sure at first, but I checked on your web site, and there he was. Large as day! So how much was the reward again? And the schmuck said I wouldn't get any money out of him!"

The voices stopped suddenly, the sounds as well. John got up, walking over to the bed he grabbed his bag. He knew what was about to happen. But still he took his time, there was really no need to hurry.

The people got closer and closer. Until they stopped. The door kicked down, orders shouted loudly as they searched the room. John could do nothing but wear a complacent smile, picturing the faces of the people when all they saw was an empty room. He wasn't that much of an idiot.

He knew better than to stay in the room that had actually been given to him. John wasn't even on the same side, although he was a couple doors down. Opening a window he jumped out onto a landing, walking a ways till he came to some stairs. Turning, fire burning in his hand he tossed the flames, watching as they quickly sparked and licked at the wooden planks, traveling. Fire alarms going off several seconds later.

Picking up his pace just ever so slightly John made his way to his car.

* * *

It just wasn't his day. Actually it hadn't been for the past_ several_ days. Frank and Debbie, the X-men, and now it was his car. It wasn't just being watched it was being searched. Two towering Sentinels standing guard, their bright red optics flashing across the pavement and the streets around it.

_The one time I don't hide it._

Now he had no ride. John could have engaged them, but another vehicle approached, more soldiers getting out, ones who were extremely armed, and although he felt satisfaction that they were going through all that because of him, he also had to figure out how to get away.

He had made it down the street, all the way on the other side, when a dreaded synthetic voice spoke.

"Mutant presence detected." A pause, the next words uttered closer and pointed at his back. "Mutant found."

He took of in a run, knowing it would do no good. It was now morning, and there was no shadows to hide in, no darkness to cover him up. That was when a motorcycle appeared, ripping around a corner, slamming on the brakes, the machine sliding across the road, branding the street underneath it with it's tires.

"Get on Pyro. Now." John heard her voice, _saw_ her, and still he couldn't believe it. Nor did he care to. He had enough of being screwed with, both by the X-men, the Sentinels and the world in general. He looked behind him, the giant robots approaching, soldiers running behind them. And still he remained where he was.

"I think I'll pass. _Thanks_." He clutched his bag more tightly, tossing it over his arm so that his hands were free, fierce flames shot out to the right and the left. Cars exploding nearly immediately, shooting up in the air and then landing back down with a tremor, blocking the street behind him, giving John some time. He took off again.

The motorcycle followed him, picking up speed, then turning so that it was humming softly, right in his path. He stopped short of crashing into the thing. Taking a couple steps back John made the motion of trying to bypass it once more.

"Stay out of my way." He barked, his voice a threat. "I don't need your help!"

Even then he felt the ground actually pulsing underneath him. Loud steps being taken, ones that were way too close to him. He needed to fight or flee.

"John. Get on! Dangit! Now isn't the time t'be stubborn."

He considered his options, his decision made for him when a loud blast shot past him, an orange ray of light that decapitated a stop sign right next to him. He watched as the thing rolled, clattering along until it finally fell down right in front of his feet, twisted and scarred.

He got on the bike, a helmet thrown at him.

"Put it on. Hurry!"

John did so reluctantly.

"Grab on."

His hands clutched onto some metal bars on the side, right before the motorcycle took off.

"Whatever y'do don't let go."

That was when the vehicle took off, taking off in a speed he wouldn't have thought possible. Or survivable.

* * *

It wasn't till several minutes passed that John found his voice again. He didn't know if he was supposed to be pissed, grateful, or just confused.

"What are you doing here Rogue?" John wasn't sure if she could even hear him, but he thought he would try just the same.

"I came t'find y'John." He heard inside his helmet, one that was obviously equipped with some kind of communication relay. She sounded tired and hesitant. "I said some things earlier that.."

"You regret?" He finished for her, since she seemed somewhat stuck.

"Yeah." There was a lengthy pause. Her heard her draw in a breath and release it. "I didn't mean t'go off on y'like I did. It just happened."

"So you came all the way out here just to apologize?" He asked with disbelief, not knowing why she would even want to bother.

"And t'get you. We just got a warning from a trusted contact that the government is stepping up on there mutant hunt." Another reflective pause. Her next words filled with near amusement. "And of course y'are on the top of the list." She sighed. "And now that y'probably burned that hotel down, y'will be moved up as a priority. Was that really necessary?"

"They forgot to put a chocolate on my pillow, it was the least I could do." He watched the world continue to go by him. Everything just a streak. John felt dizzy when he focused on it for too long, but he couldn't turn away from it. "I was going to ask how you got here so quickly, but I find I have that answer. And I would ask how you found me, but if I know you guys, that cell that was given to me wasn't _just_ a phone."

"Your car was tagged as well."

"Figures. Not that it matters anymore. Probably being ripped apart or blown up as we speak."

"You won't need it at the moment anyway, since I am taking you back to base."

"I don't.." He started, ready to argue.

"Y'don't have to stay forever, a month perhaps maybe two? Until the heat dies down."

"Thanks but no thanks." John said firmly. His grip tightening on the bike as he thought of returning there.

"John." She said warily. Her helmet shaking back and forth in front of his face as she shook her head with frustration. "This isn't some kind of game we're playin'. This is life and _death_. We are fightin' for our lives and now isn't' the time, t'be out here in the open, it's too dangerous."

"First you want me as far from you as possible and now you are asking me to move in?"

"Yes." Rogue said simply. "We used t'be friends remember? No matter how I act, or what I say. I really don't want anythin' t'happen t'you."

He was stunned by her revelation, the sudden softness in her tone, and the sheer kindness of what she said. But he didn't dwell on it long.

"Fine." He spat out, trying to sound detached, and disinterested. "But just because we are moving in together doesn't mean that at some point I am going to want to marry you."

"Darn." She feigned disappointment. "And I already picked out the dress."


	9. Present Danger

A week passed for John quickly, easily. One without any incidents. He ate. Slept. Ate and slept some more. Taking advantage of the fact that he didn't have to run, didn't have to keep moving, and didn't have to be constantly vigilant regarding his surroundings, people or even himself.

He could have gone to Trish or Mandy's. But the first wouldn't have been too happy to see him, and the second, when he had been living with her, started to make hints about marriage, that had him making an excuse and getting out of there as soon as he saw what she wanted.

So he met a couple more of the inhabitants, sparred with Gambit in the training room, yet pretty much just stayed in the small room that had been provided for him, one that was ample enough and so quiet that a sense of peace surrounded him whenever he shut the door. Glory would talk and sit with him, Jeza came by a couple times, but he managed to get rid of her easily enough. He downloaded books on the wireless reading device that had been left for him, and played games on the psp that he had still managed to hold on to.

John started to relax, his mind already willing to acclimate itself to his new place in the world, especially since Scott's words, the ones about everyone pulling their weight and doing something, seemed more like a idle threat than a fact. Or so he thought.

But there he had been music playing quietly in the background, and Great Expectations on the little electronic device, a book that he had read before, one that wasn't impacting him as much as it had when he was younger. In fact, it had actually turned into some sort of comedy for John; every time Pip went through another crisis, or just met with bad luck, John found himself chuckling, no longer able to compare himself to the fellow, except to show a contrast this time, one that was bitterly beyond that which the protagonist was going through at his _worst_ time.

And then there had been a knock on his door. Even thumps against metal, that had him rolling his eyes as he threw the device down and got up to see who it was.

"Can I come in?"

It was Summers of course. And John knew the question wasn't a request just by the way he asked. Scott coming in before he could even answered one way or another, was another way he was able to confirm that. So the X-men sat down on the small couch. He made small talk for a while, asking John how he was doing, if the food was ok.. yakkidy yak yak.

And then the reason for his appearance became apparent. Another question was asked. The _main_ question. John had been sitting on his bed, slightly bored as he usually was when the guy was around, but came to attention when the words finished, they shot toward him at a reckless speed until they jumped into his ears, slid down his ear canals and screamed inside his head, as they resonated inside of him.

"You want me to do what?!"

And he had thought somehow he had gotten past that. He was wrong.

"Watch over Glory. She needs someone to accompany her when she goes on her rounds."

"Rounds?"

"She provides health care to different cell groups in the area, her work has doubled since McCoy..." He paused for a second. His eyebrows rising into two straight lines. "Has left for a while. And she needs someone to protect her while she is out there, she had been trained in basic self defense but, is still too young and inexperienced to go out there on her own."

"So you want me to.. " John cringed. He liked the girl well enough, but this was going too far. "_Babysit_ her?"

Scott nodded his head. His red sunglasses flashing as light played off it, rising and falling until he stopped.

"In a way. Yes. For whatever reason Glory likes you. She has had a hard life and her even suggesting you in the first place means she must actually _trust_ you. A rarity for anyone nowadays."

"And if I don't want to?"

A smile showed up on Summers, one that broadened into an evil looking grin.

"Then I will find something else for you to do. Jubilee has been looking for someone to accompany her on her food runs."

So there he was, standing outside a skating rink, one that was more than that, since it was actually a home to what looked like a dozen or more mutants. Glory had left him outside, telling him she wouldn't be long, an hour later he was still there, staring at the darkened parking lot, walking back and forth, keeping his ears open, his eyes on the area around him.

_How did I get here? What am I doing!?_

John stopped, his senses picking up something. His sensitive intuition blaring inside him. He got ready, he knew what was coming. _Trouble. _His ephemeral peace shattering, as he was shoved back into reality that was his life, one that was filled with ever present danger.

Lights came on, searchlights that traveled until they landed on John. He shook his head, crazily bemused as a helicopter appeared, a couple vans; officers getting out, weapons drawn, most at him.

"Surrender Mutants. You are surrounded. Come easily and you won't be harmed."

He forgot how silent they could be, how quick. But he was faster. He _had_ to be. A flash of the wrist, a swell of fire, thrusting forward and up. Crashing into the helicopter, blasts following and a loud clang from the air vehicle landing on one of the vans. Screeching and the sound of metal against metal until the whirling blades died. The occupants still alive as they jumped out and ducked for cover. Fires sprouting up, giving him more fuel. Bullets sounding off, coming toward him, igniting on themselves when they made contact with the wall of fire that was now surrounding him. A thing that was so hot that even _he_ was sweating, the heat intense and blindingly bright.

But he could handle it.

The fire shield intensified, growing larger and larger, his heart hammering against his rib cage as he tried to stay in control, sweat dripping down his brow. But John wasn't done yet. The fire surrounding him shooting forward, throwing people back, melting metal and weapons, giving him enough of an advantage that he was able to back up, and go inside. He ran as fast as he could, unsure of where he was going, but all he really had to do was follow the screams.

He found Glory trying to calm everyone, telling people to get behind tables that had been overturned as bullets shot through windows, shattered glass, splintered wood along with it, that impacted with anything it could. There was shouts of pain, crying, but all of it dimmed into a low hum, as if they were used to it.

"Glory!" He grabbed onto her arm, trying to drag her. "We are leaving. Now!"

Her eyes went large, her head shaking back and forth with determination.

"No! We can't leave without these people!" Her hand going out indicating the ones huddling and hiding. People looking at him, waiting for _him_ to do something, as if he was some sort of savior. But he was no hero. He never had been.

"They will have to take care of themselves."

"You don't help them than I won't go either!"

Her mouth became firm, her eyes thin slits that looked at him. Standing firm. Unmoving. He could have easily just picked Glory up and thrown her over his shoulder, even kicking and struggling she would have been no problem. But it was the scared, pleading look she held that stopped him.

"Fine." John looked around him. Counting quickly. Fourteen, some children. Some injured, or looking sick. "Move them to the back of the building and wait." He ordered Glory who didn't seem to be moving. "_Now_ would be a good time."

"What.." She stammered. "What are you going to do?"

"Something that will probably get me killed. I suggest you contact the base and have reinforcements sent just in case.. "

"John!" Glory shouted.

But he was already gone.


	10. The Pleasure, The Pain

John could lose himself sometimes when using his gift. Fall into black as coherent thought and reasoning shut down inside him. Emotions sparking through him; powerful currents of pleasure that throbbed inside him. At times like that mere physical satisfaction dimmed, becoming a twisted memory that wasn't anything compared to what he was feeling at that moment.

How he _enjoyed_ it.

One thing about all the that was going on in the world, he had become more finely tuned, more aware of what he could do; the damage he could cause and the lives he could take. Sometimes his mutancy would whisper sweet words; calling him to let go, to release everything he felt into just one more blast. One more heated wave of destruction. When he was in _that_ zone, there was no stopping him, no deterring him until it was over.

Like that moment. When he had his enemies before him, blocked. _Totally_ at his mercy. He _loved_ his powers, his obvious superiority and the hot flames that called him by name.

_Pyro_.

He had made it outside, blasting off the metal doors, knocking a couple people back, ones who probably didn't know what was hitting them until it was too late. John had meant to take off running, get what he had come for. But he didn't. Fire was still burning around the area, more than he expected, all of it surrounding him; John's awareness of the flames building; his world circling around him, stopping sharply several long seconds later, finding him with darkening eyes, mouth curved up sharply on one side; his flame thrower ready, warm hard metal that was pressed against his flesh, yet it was unneeded.

The area in front of him was a war zone, the smell of burnt rubber and blistering metal. Voices, that of people groaning, others giving orders. People backing away, running or coming forward. He took a long inhale of breath, filling himself to the brim. Walking slowly, the already present fire jumping off the ground, enclosing around those that were still standing, pushing them back, lining them like flies against the side wall of the building.

"Drop your weapons. Or die."

Was all he said. They might have laughed at him if it had been an earlier time in his life. Cackled at the naive boy who was trying so hard to be something more than he was, no matter what it took. But thanks to the people in front of him, and those like him, he was most definitely not a boy any more. He was a realist, one who had been molded and formed out of what had been done to him, what he had gone through and what the world had become. Maybe it was all an excuse, but the hard cold finality that had become second nature to him, it was who he was.

John wasn't surprised when they were tossed nearly immediately; faces looking at him, some in fear, some with hatred, determination or just plain impudence.

"You have nowhere to go. _Mutant_." One of the men said, his voice filled with boiling acid and an underlining threat. "We will find you eventually. _All_ of you."

"Really?" John laughed, the flames building, hotter they became; he could feel the power; it was in his veins, coursing through his blood, the sensation building. He could just stop. _Stop_ holding back. Let go. "Not if I _kill_ you."

The fire wall went closer to the armed men, he let sparks shoot out, just enough that it made contact, caressing their uniforms, a threat of what he could do. What he wanted to do. He _wanted_ to burn. Hard and hot and without mercy.

"You said you wouldn't kill us if we dropped our guns." One of his enemies said, a woman's voice, one that was marred with a spasm of coughing.

"That was _before_ you threatened me."

John _was _enjoying it. They were squirming, sweating and so totally with out hope. Everything was in his hands. He could do anything, _anything_ he wanted.

_What you want!? What about the others! What about them?_

That was when his conscious kicked in; the small, tiredly weak voice that was barely heard over everything else. He considered it, backing up a ways, staring in front of him. John had almost forgotten, forgotten that Glory was counting on him, waiting for him. Others were as well.

But the _pleasure_, the absolute freedom, he wanted that, _craved_ it. _Needed_ it.

Yet.

Blinking slowly several times, John's view transformed in front of him, the world aligning itself back into normality; the pleasure subsiding, a near painful thing that took it's time until he was left with nothing but one option.

To get out of there.

He took off in a run, a strange rather awkward thing since his feet didn't want to cooperate, his mind not quite wrapped up in the fact that he was actually going to leave, everything unresolved and totally unsatisfactory. John took away his control from the flame that had covered the people, it would die out on it's own in minutes, more than enough time for him to get away.

John reached the modified S.W.A.T van, making sure it was empty, still operational and working. It was. He went to the driver's side, opening the door. A noise pierced the air, a sharp pop that him scrambling to the side, anything to stop the true trajectory of the explosion of sound, that he was pretty sure had been his heart. A sharp stab followed that had his body flinging backwards, his left shoulder releasing warm fluid down his arm.

He had been shot.

Scanning the area as he positioned himself behind the opened door, John found the shooter, a person hiding behind the downed helicopter, barely seen but moving as if they had been injured. It hardly took a thought; his hand shooting up, a blast going forward, impacting with the gunner, sending them flying, their body landing a couple feet away, rolling and squirming as they tried to put the fire out.

John could have killed them, it would have been an easy task, maybe a little _too_ easy. Jumping inside the vehicle, slamming the door shut, he pulled keys out of his pocket that he had gotten from one of the down men. It fit in perfectly, the engine starting immediately, saving him time from having to start it manually.

More bullets started at some point, but they themselves should have know what a pathetic waste it was. He was in _their_ vehicle, and it was immune to such tiny projectile weapons. He shot forward, tires squealing loudly underneath him, the wheel turning roughly underneath his hands as he angled around the corner, pangs shooting through his shoulder until he straightened out, as fast as he could go until he reached the back of the skating rink.

Trash dumpsters, plenty of junk and litter, but the area was clear. He honked the horn, jumping out of the van, a thing his newly acquired wound regretted. Black spots flashed in front of him, a wave of nausea that he fought. He saw Glory staring out the back door, her face uncertain through the glass as she held back people who were trying to get out.

"Come on!"

The people came forth, taking a little too long for his taste. John kept his eyes on the area, making sure no more unwanted company came.

"Ok. We can go!" Glory shouted from the back of the van, slamming the back doors shut. "Everyone is secure."

"Finally."

Getting back in the van, he looked behind him, the people properly situated, actually looking hopeful. He applied pressure to his foot down onto the pedal, the vehicle taking off once more. Glory smiling up at him from where she sat beside him.

* * *

"You're hurt."

John ignored her, focused on the road before him. She placed her hand on his arm carefully, looking like she wanted to lift up his sleeve and tend to it, but to do that he would have to stop once more. He didn't want to; removing the tracking devices, destroying the radio and blackening the swat symbols and license plate just fifteen minutes earlier had been a necessity, but he wasn't going to stop driving again, especially not for something as inane as a bullet wound, one that probably wasn't as bad as it felt. He had dealt with worse, and he had already treated it on his own, adequately enough that the flow of blood already stopped, the dizziness more tolerable.

"John?"

He looked over at her, soft innocent eyes staring at him with, what he believed was misplaced affection.

"I'm _fine_. It's _nothing_." Of course it was then that a sharp spasm blazed through his arm, his hand slipping, causing the vehicle to move a little over to the right. He gained control, gritting his teeth.

"Do you want me to drive?"

"No." He grouched, knowing she was too young, although driving without a license was the least of his concerns at the moment. He gave her a pointed look that had her straightening up as she pushed herself further back in the seat she was in. "Why don't you look over the others, they could probably use it." John told her, wanting Glory to leave him alone, trying to be at least partway cordial about it. But his mind was racing, his brain was flashing back to what he had felt earlier when he had been manipulating the flames. What he always felt when he did, it was a wonder he could ever stop the burning.

"They are fine, I looked them over while you were." She paused, her face taking on a rather awed expression. "..busy. You.. You didn't _kill_ anyone did you?"

"And if I say yes?" John didn't know if he did or didn't, at the very least most of them were probably going to be hogging up space in some hospital or another, for _quite_ a while. That thought certainly cheered him up.

She swallowed loudly, looking away from him for a minute, staring hard out the window as her small hands played with the seat buckle, her thumb caressing the release button, over and over again. Her gaze drifting towards him once more.

"Then you did it protecting us. And I am sure you had no other choice."

"Do you always think the best of everyone?" His voice was accusatory, harsh and full of taunting.

"No." She frowned, her hand brushing against his hand, light and quick. "But I would like to of _you_."


	11. Unexpected

The look on Scott's face when he arrived back at the base; enemy's stolen vehicle with him, saved mutants, safe Glory, not to mention the sound of the X-men's reply when they called in and said back up was not necessary, not only made John's day, but the whole freekin' year.

It left him with the sick desire to volunteer again, so he could see that look of shock, the way the eyebrows rose at abnormal levels, mouth opened and dropping downward to the floor. A rather comical thing that had John chuckling.

His shoulder had been healed by Glory, it still was just a little bit sore, but she promised it would go away in time. John had watched with interest when she placed her hand on his wound, closing her eyes as she started to grimace, blood showing up underneath her pale shirt, as he felt his skin stitch itself, closing up tightly until all that was left was a minuscule scar, one that was barely noticeable. So he learned another thing from that experience, the fact that while Glory could heal others, she also had to transfer the wound, bruise, cut, even disease, into her body, and then she healed herself. It didn't look like fun, no fun at all.

John went to the cafeteria later on, suddenly ravenous, grabbing two already made turkey sandwiches from the large refrigerator, a bottle of green tea. Sitting down in a empty chair since as he was the only one in the dining area. Nearly immediately after he sensed someone entering the room, he tensed somewhat, sitting up straighter when he noticed who it was.

Rogue. She was standing there, backing up a way, halting when she realized she was noticed. So she continued forward, walking past him slowly. John felt her gaze splash across him but didn't look up, she said nothing as she went toward the kitchen. John was acutely aware of her, perhaps because he hardly ever saw her, barely spoken a couple words to her, before she made an excuse of some sort. He had thought they had made some sort of leeway, what her getting him and bringing him back and all, but instead whatever they had was strained, perhaps even awkward.

Not that they had much of anything.

"You OK John?"

He nearly choked on his mouthful of food, not hearing her return, not expecting her to say anything.

"Fine." He looked up, giving her a rather bland reply, taking another bite of his sandwich, nearly choking once more when she sat down in front of him. John was making himself sick, strange nervousness in his gut, his fingers twitching, his skin crawling in a rather interesting manner that him biting down on his tongue. It had always been that way with Rogue, she had a way of making him feel insecure and unsure of himself, had a way of making his heart rate increase, just by looking at him. The fact that she was still capable of doing it, in fact even more so than all those years ago, had him filling full of the need to run. To get away from her and away from that feeling. Especially when he liked it.

Rogue's hair was pulled into a ponytail, small whips lining the sides of her face. She wore loose pants and a light jacket, one that was open, revealing a tank top underneath that showed off her pale flesh in more abundance than he was used to for her. John went back to eating, trying to stuff the food in his mouth as quickly as possible, the view, not to mention the unexpected company making him want to contradict his decision of the need for escape.

"Y'been shot before?" She suddenly asked of him, fingering the glass of milk that was in front of her, trying to break the silence with small talk.

"Yeah." He frowned, wondering where she was going with her question. "And you?"

"Do plasma rifles count?"

"Sure."

"Then no."

He couldn't help himself, something about her reply left him chuckling.

"Then _why_ ask me about plasma rifles?"

She scrunched her shoulders up, then let them drop.

"I don't know." She peered at him, moving her feet under the table as she maneuvered a little to the side. "The truth is I have been shot before.. a couple times in fact. The_ more_ accurate question 'specially nowadays, should be _how_ many time have y'been shot."

He straightened up, leaning over the table with interest.

"Ok, I'll bite. How many times have you been shot?"

"You first."

"Why? You going to add more to your count to surpass me?"

"The thought did occur to me." She smiled softly, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Three times, four if arrows count."

"Arrows?" She shook her head with disbelief. "Y'got t'be kiddin' me!"

"Painful suckers." John told her, "Especially when you have to take them out yourself."

"I can imagine." She replied softly, her eyes narrowing. "Wanna tell me how that happened?"

Something occurred with that question, it was if the life got sucked out of him, suspicion taking it's place.

"Why are you so chatty all of a sudden? You've barely said a complete sentence to me since you brought me back here and now you want to play counselor?"

"I wasn't.."

"Save it." He grabbed the last half of his sandwich, the bottle of liquid. "You don't really want to know about me anyway, probably were sent by Scotty boy or something, told to play nice."

She looked away from him after he said that, and he swore he saw guilt.

"Is that it? You were sent here?" There was a bad taste in his mouth, one that wouldn't go away.

Rogue shook her head, standing slowly, watching him carefully.

"Not exactly."

"_Not exactly_." John parroted her, sarcastically copying her tone of voice. "What does _that_ mean!?"

She had her head toward the ground as if lost in thought, but decided to bring it up then, as she stared at him.

"I.." Rogue paused as if unsure. Sighing she opened her mouth once more. "I sent myself."

He was dumbfounded for a moment. Suddenly thinking back to a conversation he had had with Jeza, her gossipy tone going on and on as she was more than willing to tell him about the southerner. Especially when the shape shifter had noticed him staring at Rogue, something he didn't even realize he had been doing.

"Not you too." She sighed bitterly. "Enough of the male population around here wants her before adding you to the equation. I would forget it, that girl has _problems_."

And then, in a tone that was filled with pleasure, she tore into Rogue, her acidic voice rising and falling with words, some that probably would have been considered better left private. But that didn't stop Jeza, and he found himself letting her continue on, interested by what she said.

"She can't control her powers. " Jeza had snickered. "You do know how she absorbs people.. Right?" She didn't even give him time to respond to that before she continued on. "Well, for a while the personalities have been changing her moods drastically. Depressed. Angry. Bestial. Way too happy, not to mention the one where she practically jumps on anything male." She laughed. "Scott has to lock her up when she gets like that." Her tone went soft with the mention of the X-men leader, but quickly became heated and full of spite. It was perhaps then when John realized that Jeza didn't think to much of Rogue, and maybe even a little of the why. "Scott even had to reduce the missions she went on, surprised he hadn't stopped her completely. She is a hazard to everyone around here! _Especially_ with her powers!"

"What do you want? Her to be taken out back and shot?"

Her eyes lit up. As her mouth formed a crooked smile, one that made her face darken with cruelty, before she hid it away with a supposed empathetic frown.

"Of course not."

John came out of his memories, Rogue watching him with openness.

"Why?" He questioned, the one word jumping out of his mouth.

She came toward him, placing a hand on his lower arm, his first instinct had been to pull it away, drag it out from under her gloved fingers. But he stood still, she was so close to him, so close he could see the tiny yellow sparks of color in her bright green eyes, smell what was probably her shampoo, a new scent than what he remembered, but still pleasant.

"Because, I really thought you were going to leave and there was really no point, and now," Rogue took her hand off his body, John felt the delicate pressure fade away from where it had been, a chill filling him that made him want to step closer to her, if only so that he was closer to her boundary. She pointed her hand behind her. "Now that you have been here for a while, even helped us, I guess I sorta owe you more than an apology."

"More than?" He inquired, his voice too soft for his taste. "What else is there?" He kept the hopefulness out of his tone, instead backing up to a more sarcastic one, that made him feel so much more comfortable with himself.

"I'm not sure yet." She told him truthfully as she stared at him completely. "But I guess I can at least stop avoiding you. That was becoming an inconvenience anyway."

"I didn't even know you were." John said a little too quickly.

She laughed shortly at that.

"Liar!"

"Among other things."

"Y'can say that again."

"_Among other things_."

"Very funny John."

"I _do_ have my moments."

"And as humble as ever."

"Not really."

The fell into silence. Standing a couple feet from each other, both obviously unsure of how to continue, or what to say. It was then that someone else came bounding into the room.

"Hey dere Roguey." A flash of white teeth. "Still up. If y'are havin' difficulty sleepin' Remy could think of more than a couple things that would wear you out." Gambit strolled toward her, stopping a ways from her where he leaned casually against a table.

"Not even if I was a suffering insomniac and y'were the only solution."

Gambit's face fell. But lit up, not ready to give up.

"Y'sure? Remy could grab some lotion. Give y'a nice massage." He got up spryly, walking behind Rogue, placing his hands on her shoulders as he kneaded her gently.

"Ugh! Get your paws off me Swamprat!" Rogue swatted him away, glaring at him with frustration.

"Remy only tryin' t'help petite!"

"Yeah, help yourself!"

"Y'wound Remy."

"No." She balled her right hand into a fist, parting her feet just a little as she became defensive. "But I will if y'dont back off."

Remy grinned at John, as he looked at him for the first time since his arrival. John might as well been a shadow while that was going on. He didn't like being a shadow.

"So y'want a little _one_ on one?"

"Only if it means you're at the receivin' end of my fist."

Gambit chuckled at that.

"That mi.."

"Shutup! Just shutup!" Rogue snapped, her voice full of irritation. Her hands flinging widely. "Y'got me out of here! Y'happy!?"

She gave John a quick glance, one that looked far from happy. Walking to the side she went to the table and picked up her cup, murmuring to herself in a rather uncharacteristic way. Passing through the two men, Gambit's lustful stare following her body with total concentration. A thought came to John, one that he acted on immediately, and without regret, especially with what happened afterwards.

He _accidentally_ dropped his tea bottle, letting it roll in front of Rogue, she moved and tilted to the side to avoid it, her hand moving in exactly the way he wanted to, up and to the right, the glass slipping as it flew up in the air, the contents shooting out and then landing; right on Gambit.

"You know I have heard that milk works wonders for helping one sleep." John said, pausing for a second, trying hard to keep a straight face as Gambit wiped off the substance, nearly slipping as he did so. "But I think it helps if you _drink_ it. Not _wear_ it."

When he heard Rogue's unadulterated laughter, he knew with absolute certainty that he _did_ do the right thing.


	12. Mutant Wanted

"What are you doing?" A small girlish voice asked from behind John. At the moment he was sitting at the conference table with Gambit, an hour earlier he had been at his first meeting with the X-crew, debriefed on what was going to me one his first true missions, one that was going to be later that night. Assignments had been given, groups had been formed, and they had been dismissed before John even had a chance to get uncomfortable.

He had stayed behind when Gambit waved him over, wanting to show him something on the computer. The Cajun _was_ still talking to John, he didn't seem one to hold grudges very long, although the fact that two days after the milk incident John had found his room bolted from the bottom of the door to the top, he also knew he wasn't past getting back at people. It took him several hours to get through them all, and when he broke through the last one, Gambit appeared out of nowhere, a large grin on his face that he flaunted before he walked away without ever speaking. His laugh echoing behind him...

So while him and the red eyed thief weren't exactly best of friends, the two could tolerate one another, for the most part.

"Lookin on da net chere."

Glory strode up toward them, leaning on the back of Gambit's chair as she narrowed her eyes, staring down at the screen. Gambit was typing away furiously, leaning back in his chair, a wireless keyboard resting on his lap. He chuckled every now and again, from what he was typing.

"Not again! You're going to get in trouble Remy."

His answer was a garbled sound from the back of his throat. He gently pushed Glory back a ways, obviously not wanting her to see exactly what he was doing yet.

"Trouble Remy not lookin' for, causing a _little_ chaos, well dat be all right."

He punched the enter key, then rolled his chair back over to the table where he put the keyboard down; leaning over he pulled out a small memory card from the side of the CPU, looking at it before he palmed it, he took on the look of one who was very pleased with their self.

"Go ahead.." Gambit said, waving his hand in the air in front of him. "Tell Remy what y'tink."

What he had been working on was a web site he had hacked into, one that was owned jointly by government, and the F.O.H.. He had showed John what it contained. Showing it off as if it was the next best thing since cheese pizza.

_"Y'ever seen dis?" He had asked John, after everyone else had cleared out from the meeting, leaving the two alone. _

_"Seen what?" _

_"Da mutant wanted listings.. Good for a laugh!"_

_Gambit showed him the top ones. Xavier was number one followed by Magneto and Wolverine. The first and third on the list having thick red lines through their pictures, _captured_ printed in the middle of them. _

_"Ya want t'see how much y'are worth?"_

_"Not really." _

_The Cajun didn't listen to him, as he clicked on a link, the next page opening. Pounding the mouse down, he stared harder at the computer screen. "Y'knocked Remy down to number nine, two more and Remy won't be on the top ten."_

_That caught John's interest._

_"Then what number does that make me?"_

_"Y'have eyes, use dem."_

_John did so. Laying his hands on the edge of the large table, as he brought his gaze downwards._

_A word came out of his mouth, one that was abrupt and not so subtle._

_"Number 7?" His eyes widened for a moment. They had several pictures of him, one being him with his right hand outstretched, fire shooting forward. John recognized the apartments behind him, and knew it had been several years ago. He couldn't remember seeing anyone taking pictures of him then, if he had, maybe he would have at least given a smile, then again if he had, the camera, nor the person taking the picture would have probably gotten out in one piece. _

_He read through what they had on him, some of the info a little too correct for his taste, and a little to recent. Then his eyes settled on the bottom of the screen. _

_Three words left his mouth this time, ones that were loud and carried. He leaned in closer to see if he misread it, but he hadn't. _

_"That much money if someone gives info that leads to my capture?" It was a substantial amount of money, a large sum that made John realize he was even more lucky in not getting caught than he had thought, for he, above a lot of people knew that there was a lot of greedy people in the world._

_"Well don't let it get t'your head, it's only that much because y'have been public recently." _

_"What's the highest you have ever been?" _

_Gambit lowered his eyelids, staring at John between thin slits._

_"Who cares how high Remy has been, he was one of de first to even make da list! Remy was even dere before de F.O.H came into existence, 'n dat mon ami, has t'count for somtin'! Which reminds Remy.. Now dat you have browsed a little, it's time for an update.. Wouldn't want people t'tink Remy don't care what dey write about 'im!"_

_That was when the Cajun picked up the keyboard, joining his hands together he cracked his knuckles, then leaned back comfortably._

_"Here is de fun part." He informed John, with a wink. "Wait 'n see."_

* * *

"Well," Gambit said impatiently. He slid his chair away from the table to allow them some room. "Tell Remy what y'think. Genius! Non?"

The screen, which before had been full of pictures and descriptions, was now a stark black. _Been hacked by Remy LeBeau_ scrolled across the screen, a large X pulsating in the background. A bar was at the bottom, showing a virus' progression of being loaded into the system.

"Dat'll teach dem t'put prices on our heads!"

"No it'll just give them an excuse to raise them.."

John turned to find Rogue entering the darkened room, her hands were behind her head, twisting her hair, she wrapped a band around it, leaving it in a messy knot at the back of her head.

"Y'make it sound like dat is a bad t'ing chere. Remy knows he's not de only one keepin track of 'is stats."

"So is this what Scott was wantin' y'to do? Hack into here again? Why?" John had noticed as well how Scott had inferred something towards Gambit during the meeting, a task that was subtly hinted at.

Rogue stepped toward the screen reading what was typed. John watched Gambit watch Rogue. His eyes followed her every movement, he scooted closer to her, his chair rolling softly across the floor.

"Well, lets just say dat Remy wants t'make sure he has some cards up 'is sleeves, 'specially with what we are goin' t'have t'deal with later."

"They will have the site back up in a couple hours."

"Probably."

"So what's the point?" Glory voiced, her brows bunching together.

"Same point of Remy's blog, it's sendin' a message!"

"_Blog_, more like a score board." Rogue stated, her words flat. "And people I _know _actually have t'read through that crap!"

She turned around, placing her hands against the table, lifting herself up, she positioned herself on top of it.

"I think it's kinda... imaginative. ." Glory said, blushing lightly, she looked over at John and then down the chair, wanting to sit down. He let her know it was ok to take it.

"You actually read it?" Rogue said, not sounding pleased. Daggers shooting out of her eyes. "Remy y'better not have encouraged her!"

"Not Remy." He assured her, waving his hands in front of his chest. "'sides it is probably educational to her, give her a couple tips for when she's older, and if Remy have t'write anything, it might as well be 'bout somethin' he knows, somethin' he finds interestin'. "N even y'got t'admit dat it does throw people off. Nobody would know dat all his musing's is notin more dan codes for contacts.'" He straightened up in his chair suddenly looking smug. "So y'be lookin' at Remy's site?"

"Only when I have to." She scrunched her nose. "Y'know I sometimes have to check if any messages have been posted."

"So y'_are_ browsin' Remy's pages."

"Definitely not."

"Whatever y'say chere. Just as long as y'aren't mad about what Remy wrote about _you_."

She lowered herself off the table, her face taking on the look of the paranoid.

"Y'_wrote_ about me?"

"Not that much." John told her, his face taking on a small twisted smile. "Although probably too much for you."

Rogue turned toward Gambit. Her skin was flushed and pale, making her green orbs shine brightly.

"I just can't believe this! I mean y'have turned the whole thing into some sort of twisted entertainment!" She turned toward John. "And y'have been t'his site as well!?" Her statement was more of an accusation than anything else.

"Hey! He said I might need the web address someday, in case of emergency. How was I supposed to know it was code in smut!"

"Yeah, and I am sure once y'figured that out, that it didn't stop you from surfin' through debauchery central!" Rogue shook her head, eyes sparkling as she chided them with a teasing tone.

"Hey Remy resents that."

She chuckled at that.

"I am sure y'do! Ugh! Why does Scott let y'get away with all that crap!" She kicked out her foot, pushing Remy's and his chair further from her. "And _Blogs_! I mean what is Remy writin' a blog for anyway? Has the world gone completely _nuts_?"

"Scotty just knows dat Remy has _many_ hidden talents. And Remy must be doin' somtin' right because y'would not believe how many e-mails he's gotten from people, all tinkin dat da site is real."

"It really isn't _that_ bad." Glory interrupted, turning a little in her chair. "And what he writes about you, is rather sweet, even poetic!"

"See dere.. even da petite likes it."

"She's only twelve, she doesn't know better yet!"

Glory pushed out her bottom lip, mastering a pout in less than a second.

"Gee thanks Rogue. Hate to hear what you say about your enemies if this is what you say about your friends!"

"I don't have any enemies!"

"Really?" Gambit said with a good dose of disbelief. Spinning around in his chair, he stopped so that he was facing Rogue.

"What about the FBI?" He offered.

"And The F.O.H!" Glory chirped in.

The two continued to sound off different groups and names, each taking a turn.

"And Th..."

"Ok already. So I _do_ have enemies. Y'guys certainly know how t'make girl feel loved."

Gambit rolled forward on his chair, tapping Rogue lightly with his knee.

"Well if ya lookin' for someone t'love on y'R.."

"Little busy _tonight_." There was an implied moron in the last word, that none of them missed, and one of them chose to ignore.

"So be Remy, doesn't mean we can't make plans for later.."

Rogue shook her head, chuckling softly.

"I'll be busy _then_ too."

"You're no fun."

"I am, just not in the way y'want me t'be."

"Hey." Glory interrupted, drawing the focus away from the playful banter as she turned further around to look behind her, looking extremely puzzled. "_Where _did John go?"

Remy and Rogue turned, both looking around the room. The pyromaniac was indeed gone.

* * *

"John?" The name floated down the hallway, soft undertones of a honey dew accent, one that sounded even better when it came from her, but despite his name being called, with the obvious intention of making him halt, he continued walking. Ever since the night they talked Rogue had been more attentive to him, yet he still could see that she was still guarded and watchful, still not entirely trusting him. In fact he was pretty sure he saw that same look when she watched Gambit. The only people he had seen her look at with trust, and obvious affection was Glory and Scott.

"John?" The sounds of soft pitter pattering of fast moving feet, was followed by a hand coming upon his back, one that had him coming to a sharp stop. One thing he was learning about this older Rogue, was that she wasn't so hesitant with touching.

He spun around.

"_What!_?"

"Y'ready for tonight?" Rogue looked up at him, genuine interest written on her features.

"What's there to get ready for? Just rescuing one of your informers that just _happens_ to be in one of the most heavily guarded anti-mutant compounds." He shrugged, rolling his eyes. "Sounds like a freekin' picnic."

"If you're not ready.. I can.."

"I didn't say that." He huffed out a puff of air. "If anything it will be a diversion from _this_ dull place."

She considered his words, appearing as if she was weighing them, trying to figure out some hidden significance.

"Y'haven't said much today, not even durin' the meeting. In fact y'never seem t'talk much. I do.."

"What do you want me to do? Jump up and down, clap my hands and shout for joy?"

"That might be _different_." Rogue tilted her head to the side, her eyes full of humor. "I might even pay to see that."

"Oh yeah? How much?"

"Not enough I am sure. Besides y'have enough money."

John took a couple steps backwards as he scrutinized her.

"And _how _would you know _that_?"

"How do y'think? We wouldn't just let y'in here without knowin' certain things first.."

"Certain things.. where else have you been sticking your nose?"

It was her turn to be affronted.

"I haven't been stickin' my nose anywhere! I have been keepin' track of a lot of people I used to know from the X-mansion. Just in case.."

"...they were killed?" He finished, feeling a little bit of regret for making assumptions about her.

"It _has_ happened before." She whispered sorrowfully, her anger replaced by a hollowed out sadness. "Y'would be surprised by how many of us have been killed, captured or have even _changed_."

"Changed?" The word caught his attention, the way she spat it out of her mouth, making it seem even worse than death.

"Yeah, _changed_ John. As in never will be the same." Rogue stared at him for a couple seconds longer, taking a deep breath, her expression changing to neutral. "Y'might want t'rest before tonight. It promises t'be a long one."

And without anything further she turned and walked away. John watched her until she disappeared around a corner, and then he continued on his way.


	13. Twitchy

John was unbelievably wired. After Rogue's advice, that of getting some rest, he, under some form of rebellion or another, decided that rest was for children, and that was a category he most certainly wasn't under. So, after heading to his room and taking a shower, and then changing, he headed to the dining room. Passing the talking groups, walking past Scott who was sitting by himself eating a sandwich and typing on a small laptop computer. Then he came to his destination, a large heated pot of coffee, a thing that he consumed all by himself in less than 30 minutes.

When the kitchen worker finally came out; restarting and refilling the thing, he waited patiently, and when the thing finished pouring out a fresh batch, he took up his rather large cup, filled it to the brim, and then after adding an enormous, deliciously unhealthy amount of cream and sugar, he walked back out of the cafeteria, a slight spring to his step, one that was artificially created, yet not under appreciated.

And here he was, about two hours later, sitting in the back of a van- not just any van but the one he himself had acquired. John had had to fight a smile that wanted so much to be planted on his face, one that would have been well deserved and rather boastful. Instead of doing that he concentrated on not letting the thing shine through, biting his bottom lip, watching through the darkened windows as the highway passed by, then trees, and then even more trees.

"We're almost there people. Get ready." Scott informed them, as he turned around just slightly enough so that his voice traveled to where most of the occupants were; that in the back of the van. He of course was driving, Jeza sitting along with him, the two talking among themselves.

Besides those two, it was Rogue, a speedster named Pietro; who he was pretty sure was the guy who rescued him, that night so long ago, and of course Gambit and himself. Rogue was sitting across from him, and between the two men, talking and laughing as if they weren't heading toward trouble, weren't heading toward what could possibly be something disastrous and dangerous. The more John observed her, the more he realized that she was more social then he remembered, more of a flirt.

"Y'lie!" Rogue was laughing softly, as she lightly tapped the guy named Quicksilver on the arm. "I _didn't_ do that!"

"You did and you know it, saying you didn't doesn't mean that you couldn't have, so arguing does no good!"

Just hearing that guy talk made John's head spin, even with his caffeine induced brain he had a hard time keeping up with what he said, all the words practically hugging one another. So he had to let the words filter though into his ears, and then as if his brain was a computer and needed time to analyze the speedy talking, he translated what was said.

"You always did have a sweet tooth, some people even said that you could put Colossus under the table during Christmas with the pecan pies."

_Not to mention the fudge. _He reminded himself. Visions of coming across Rogue Christmas Eve; she had been heading up to her room, a pile of the chocolate pecan desert on a plate, a large bottle of Cherry 7 up in the other hand. When they crossed paths; him going downstairs, her going up to her room, she had narrowed her eyes, daring John to say anything. It was one of the few times he hadn't. But perhaps the fact that she had been wearing a rather cutesy pajama set, one that seemed to glide against her with every movement of her body, probably distracted him enough to not have.

"See even Fire boy agrees with what I say, you know you ate that _entire_ cheesecake and there is no denying it, so why try to hide it!"

"Because it ain't the truth!" She scowled halfheartedly at the speedster. "Besides Jubilee helped me! In fact she ate more than me." Rogue chuckled softly. "Besides y'most definitely didn't need it! Y'know what y'are like when y'get sugar, talk about frightenin'! Y'need to carry around a tape recorder when y'do, so y'can record and then play it back it slow motion to understand what y'said!"

They all laughed at that, even John who managed a soft chuckle as he tried to picture it. It had been quite a while since he hung out with anyone, since he was able to laugh or even joke about anything, and the timing couldn't have been more strange.

"And now y'now why we we really need to lock up da sweets." Gambit said, directing the conversation toward John. "Either Southern terror eats it all 'n turns into the happy Queen, which _actually_ isn't dat bad- but does make one t'ink dey got knocked into some twisted dimension- which _has_ actually happened before, " He waved his hand in front of him in a sweeping gesture. "but that is another story- or else Quickie here gets it, 'n turns into a lighting bolt; sonic booms becoming so common place y'have to wear special ear plugs, just in case da high as a kite sugar junkie happens t'pass you. 'N don't even get Gambit started on da damage caused!"

"Hey that only happened one time, and I've paid for and replaced all the dinnerware! Not to mention I even helped replace the window that I broke." He pouted, his features taking on a thoroughly disgusted look, his stark white hair practically gleaming as he shook his head with agitation.

"Window?" Rogue laughed, her and Gambit sharing a look. "Pietro y'broke _every_ single dang window on the base, not to mention every one of the vehicles in the garage! And the _mirrors_ Pietro.." She shuttered. "we are still cleanin' up that disaster of a mess!!"

"Hey it's not my fault!" The speedster argued. "Someone could have told me that those Coke's were the ones with three times the caffeine, and don't even get me started on the fact that that carrot cake was left on the counter! What was I suppose to do? Walk away? It's my favorite! I mean _cream _cheese frosting! Who can ignore that!"

They laughed again; their humor suddenly cut short as their moods shifted nearly instantaneously, everyone going from playful to serious and alert as the vehicle slowed down and then stopped. It was nearly time.

* * *

"...so remember getting this individual out is mandatory. We have no room for mistakes. Stick to the plan, _and_ the time frames. We have no time for retribution, revenge or even showing off. Keep to your assignments, watch out for each other and when this is all over we will all meet at the designated safe place. And remember, there will be _no_ killing here tonight. This operation needs to be as quick, quiet and clean as possible. Gambit?" Scott motioned towards the Cajun.

They were in a densely populated wooded area, a ways away from what was the compound that was to be John's first operation with the X-group. Scott backed up a ways from where he had been standing in front of the group, allowing Gambit to take his place.

"Gambit hacked into their site, as some of y'already know. " He frowned slightly, extremely somber. "A virus was uploaded and an obvious enough trail was left so dat dey would know it was us. Do t'this they have spread their forces thin, as dey try to compensate for what dey believe is a soon t'be attack, only ting is, dey don't know where, so dat does leave dis base, not as protected as it usually is."

"Even so." Scott spoke up. "That is not an excuse to be lax in your duties. Do not presume that this is going to be easy. Even with half their guards they are still quite formidable."

"And the informant?" Jeza asked, "Did we here back from them yet?"

"Yes." He said nodding his head with his confirmation, not bothering to elaborate further. "Ok People, get your equipment. And _remember_ radio silence unless absolutely necessary." He nodded toward Jeza. "Illusia you're with me, Quicksilver-" He carefully handed him a small device that looked a lot like a explosive. "you know what to do. John and Rogue..." Scott stared at Rogue, offering her a small smile, that she returned. "Be careful."

"I will Scott." She frowned slightly. "Unless anyone tries t'stop me. Then that promise is off."

* * *

"How much further?" John asked, not because he was winded; running for a couple years from the government and other nefarious characters, had at the least kept him in shape, it was because he was somewhat anxious, somewhat twitchy inside as well, for he was ready to get it on. Ten minutes had already passed, and the longer they kept at it, the more he started to wish that their destination came into view.

"About half a mile." Rogue said softly from where she was running beside him, she glanced at him, deftly evading and jumping over a large log at the same time; the leather jacket she was wearing over her dark clothes scraping against extended branches. "The time?"

He flicked his hand upwards, crossing his right arm over his body as he pressed the small knob on the watch, illuminating the dial.

"9:27."

"We need t'pick up the pace." She said, as she glanced at him, before turning her view back forward. "Can y'handle it?"

John shot past her with a burst of energy as his answer, Rogue speeding up until she was next to him once more. She spoke, her words soft and airy, drifting through the night.

"Don't worry John, this will be over in no time."

His eyebrows rose at that, John's feet impacting over and over with the hard ground, each time sending a soft jolt through his system. It had been a long time since he had done something covertly, especially at the benefit of another, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Sparing another look towards Rogue, his eyes wandered; her short ponytail flopping against her neck, her full mouth pressed together firmly with concentration, the way she practically floated instead of ran. His anxious mentality shifted and changed for a second as one thought drifted through.

_At least the view doesn't suck._


	14. Partnered

"No John." He felt pressure on his upper arm, a gloved hand resting there. "We still have a minute and forty five seconds left."

"You _got_ to be kidding me." He grouched. Getting up a ways, only to be wrenched back down by Rogue, her eyebrows rising with accusation.

"_No_. I am not. Sometimes things are all about the timin'."

"No one would ever _guess_ that Scott Summers was in charge of this operation." He chuckled softy, getting another pointed look from the Southerner. "It has _anal_ written all over it."

"Scott's not anal!" She gave him a dirty look, as she defended her leader. "He's just a perfectionist. And y'wouldn't say that about him if y'knew how many times his plans has saved our butts."

He peered through the bushes, hunched behind them with Rogue, both keeping their eyes on the two guards. Suddenly after a soft tap to her watch, Rogue got up. Putting a finger to her lips she took her jacket off and threw it under a tree, loosening her hair she put her fingers through it, bending down she grabbed some dirt, rubbing it against her face and her hair. Pulling something out of her pocket she made a jerking motion, a knife appearing. Slashing it forward and down, she ripped it through her shirt, tearing through the fabric of her tee shirt, leaving her stomach partway exposed.

"Well?" Rogue said after flicking the knife closed. "Convincing?"

He looked her over slowly, enjoying it, especially with her stern, overly bright green eyes staring at him.

"Well I don't know about _that _but it sure was fun to watch."

"Just what I would expect you t'say." She huffed softly. "Ok. here I go. Remember how we are goin' t'do this."

She walked a couple slow steps, picking up her pace after she made it through to the clearing, she took off in a run, straight towards the guards, their attention turning towards her nearly immediately.

"Help me!" Rogue cried loud, her words full of her accent, twisted with what one could have construed as fear. "My car. I ran out of gas.. and now someone is after me. " She took a big intake of air. "Y'gotta help me! He has a _knife!_ He's still after me, I barely got away! _Please_."

She fell down onto her knees in front of one of the guards, causing the man to look questioningly at his partner, before leaning down. His hand came down slowly, reaching toward her shoulder.

"You shouldn't be here Miss. This is a restricted area."

Rogue brought her head upwards, staring at the tall, ominous gate, the long twisted fence that surrounded the compound that the two men were guarding. Taking on a look of shock, she continued to speak, her words coming out high pitched with anxiety.

"But someone is _after_ me!" She repeated, even from where John was he could see the tears welling in her eyes. "Why won't you _help _me?"

The other guard positioned himself behind Rogue, sharing a nod with the other one.

"We don't see _anyone_ Miss. "The man's voice took on a suspicion tone as he his partner glanced around them, both looking at each other as they shook their head. "We must ask you to leave. _Now_." He added, his words spoken firmly.

Rogue let out a loud breath, wiping her tears on her sleeve, she then stood up slowly, shaking slightly as if she was under duress.

"What has happened to generosity? T'the helpin' of others?" Her voice was still wracked with tremors, at least at first; it disappeared totally with what she said next, her tone becoming strong and sure, almost taunting. "Oh, wait I _forgot_. People like you don't know such things, in fact it's probably a job requirement _not_ to."

Her words just finished the man in front of her was reaching for his gun, the man behind her doing the same. Rogue's shoulders straighten up sharply, palms outwards as if in a surrendering position, her gaze on them absolute and severe.

"Y'can't help a girl but y'have no problem shootin' one? What has this world _come_ to?"

Standing up quickly her straight hand thrust forwards, jabbing the man in the throat, the guard gagging as he fell, clutching his neck. Rogue right leg followed swiftly after, her foot landed in his stomach, making the guy go stumbling backwards. Dropping down on all fours, she avoided being shot by the other person- just barely, her leg moving with a flash as it shot backwards and up, knocking the gun out of the man's hand that was still behind her. Rolling a ways she flipped upwards as she brought her body up, landing smoothly on her feet.

"Shouldn't have done that sugar. That was _really_ uncalled for."

"I don't need a gun to stop you _girl_."

She laughed, raising her hands in front of her. Then brought one behind her back, something slipping out from underneath her shirt. Twisting it in her hand, the object extended, not stopping until she had a metal rod resting in both hands.

"That's for sure. Two feet in front of y'and y'didn't even graze me. Don't they even train y'in the basics here?"

The man lunged toward her with a yell, she twisted to the side, letting the metal staff slip down until her fingers grasped the end, twirling around she swung it, managing to get the man under his feet; clumsily and unprepared the man went hurling forward as he crashed on the ground. Rotating the rod in her hand she let it spin, both hands moving so fast that John had to focus to see them. She twirled it behind her back, flipped it upwards, and then caught it with in her left hand. Stopping her movement for a moment, the long weapon slowed down in momentum, but continued to turn as she moved one hand above the other. Walking forward once more, she jabbed it down, the weapon made contact just to the right of the man's right foot, making a deep hole as dirt sprayed across the man's uniform. She jabbed it again, this time to the left. Each time getting closer and closer to the man's body, continuing as the man dragged himself backwards and away from her.

"Well _Pyro_. Y'want to finish this one?"

The guard tried to turn around to look behind him, _tried_, because before he could finish John had already brought both his hands together, clasping them tightly he brought it down hard and without mercy. The man slumped backwards.

"Do you always play with them like that?" He asked her softly, somewhat impressed; Rogue's rather provocative fight stirring his mutation in a rather unexpected way, as it's warmth spread to the bottom of his hands, pulsing in his fingertips.

"Only when they make me sick to my stomach."

John's eyes traveled across the length of the metal rod, a burning desire to touch it filled him, his gaze stopping at her gloved hands which were clutching possessively on the thing.

"And your _hot_ weapon?"

"A gift from Gambit." She shrugged, tilting her head to the side as she looked at him, some sort of question on her face, one she seemed not willing to ask. "Not all of us depend on our mutation t'survive." Pressing a small button, the metal rod collapsed into itself until it was barely the size of ruler, only thicker and more solid. "So y'goin' t'help me move these guys?"

"Are you sure you need my help?"

"Yeah. Y'get the stupid one, I'll get Mr. Insensitivity."

John's eyebrow rose as he looked at each downed guard in turn.

"You going to tell me which one is which?"

Winking at him, she leaned down, latching her hands onto one of the guards.

"It doesn't _really_ matter, just hurry up."

"No need to get _bossy_."

"Y'know y'_like_ it Johnny."

John looked down, disgust rising in him as he stared at the one Rogue had taken out first. A young kid who probably was barely past his eighteen birthday. He pulled on him, taking him in the general direction Rogue was heading in. Disposing of the two, who looked like they wouldn't be waking up any time soon, Rogue went back and got her jacket, putting the long thing over her body, buttoning the top two buttons she then quickly twisted her hair back into a ponytail; but then as if she anciently pulled a muscle from the swift action, she went stiff, her eyes going large, and she became still.

"Rogue?"

She slowly moved her hand forward, bringing it in front of her leg, raising it slowly in a stop gesture, something in her expression making him become as motionless as her.

"I know y'are there." Rogue suddenly said, her voice traveling around her. "Y'are goin' to have t'do more than steal from S.H.I.E.L.D. t'get by us, especially when I could smell y'sweatin' _twenty_ yards ago."

Looking around him, John saw nothing, Just Rogue standing in front of him a couple feet away, her body stiff, as if she was ready to recoil into action. He heard a cracking sound behind him, almost that of someone taking a step, but turning around he still didn't see anything. Taking a coupe steps forward and to the side, he turned his attention back forward, seeing just barely, a branch moving to the side, unnaturally so, since there was no wind that night. He took a deep breath, smelling nothing but the obvious signs of nature.

"It's only right t'warn you. Fury gave us the failsafe code to render your suits unoperative."

She sniffed slowly, taking a large inhale of breath.

"I _did _warn you. Remember that when y'wake up from your painful slumber."

Bringing a hand in front of her, she slapped her left wrist hard against her leg, immediately the sound of electricity crackling filled the area, images emerging out of nowhere, just specters of light that were in the undeniable shape of a human beings.

"John, don't let them touch you."

Grabbing onto him, she led him through the forms, ones that were becoming more and more substantial, he could see that they were writhing; moans, and sounds of pain filled the area, dimming as they left the once invisible beings behind them.

"_What_ was _that_?"

They were once more in the wooded area, Rogue had allowed them to slow down, her head moving back and forth, as she kept her view around her, yet he was pretty sure her attention was directly behind them, even without her turning in that direction.

"The enemy trying t'be clever." She shook her head, wincing somewhat. "But it doesn't pay t'steal from Colonel Fury, or S.H.I.E.L.D., especially not when they are the few organizations that we still assist, not t'mention ones that help us, when we perform certain _services_ for them."

"And they were inv.." He started his question, but his mouth closed, when Rogue turned around. She placed a hand against his chest, dropping it when John stared at her, not able to stop the suggestive smile from appearing on his face.

"No more times for questions John." She tilted her head to the side, breathing slowly. "We are bein' followed."

"I guess that that means.." He started as he looked behind him, once again not quite sure how she was capable of picking up anything, let alone anyone behind them. All he heard was crickets, the sound of some sort of water trickling- probably a river near them, and a vehicle passing them every once and a while, but they were near a traveled road.

"That everything is going as Scott planned."

"So we..."

"We run. _Fast_."

"Are you going to compete all my sentences or can I finish something on my own?"

She turned toward him, taking a couple steps forward, ones that brought her extremely close to him. The tips of her shoes touching his as she leaned towards him, close enough that he felt her cool breath filtering down on his face as she spoke. John could practically see the sparks of activity in her orbs of green, the hairs rising on his arms as she lowered her voice to a warm whisper.

"I'm sure you're really good at _finishin'_ things Johnny, perhaps even _startin'_ them. Too bad you have never been good at _sharin'_ things." There was something behind those words, an innuendo of sorts that he couldn't quite figure out.

Backing up quickly Rogue twisted around and took off running, but not before she flashed him a flirty grin, and another playful wink.

"Hey!" John shouted at her departing back, not caring in the least if their hunters heard him. He felt something burning in his chest, a hum of stimulation that had him quickly following after her. "I _can_ share!"


	15. Closer

It had been drizzling for the last ten minutes, a slow sprinkling that had John's attention turned downward periodically, the ground in his peripheral vision as he watched out for small flooded areas and slippery wet branches or leaves.

Neither Rogue or John had said anything to one another, him running beside her, her seeming as if she actually knew where she was going. She would glance at him every now and again, a soft inquiring look that seemed incentive enough for him to keep up with her.

But his heart was pumping hard inside him, fierce thumps against his rib cage that made his intake of breath almost wheeze inside and out of him, as he tried not to show how much the impromptu exercise was getting to him. Sure he could run, and run _fast_ at that. But after they started what seemed to be the fourth mile, that was when his endurance started to whisper warning; running earlier had seemed long enough, but to do it _yet_ again, and _longer_, and not to mention the slick ground underneath him, it was starting to get to him.

He was just about to go into whine mode, along with a good dash of criticalness, when Rogue came to an abrupt halt. Angling around she singled for him to stop, she didn't have to tell him twice.

"Stay here." She said to him, her voice normal enough, no signs of strain or tiredness. Not waiting for a response, she disappeared behind a couple large bushes, a huge tree beside it, that when John walked up to, he saw it had a large R carved into the bark. Just when his curiosity was going to get the better of him, he heard the rev of an engine, the squealing of tires, and then, his head snapping upwards and to the right, Rogue came tearing out of a bush, over a small incline that had the bike shooting upward off the ground, it roaring past him before it settled not far away.

"Well? Y'need an invitation?" Rogue teased from where she was a couple feet behind him, his eyes traced the deep tire marks until he came to her figure settled comfortably on the bike, one leg on the ground the other resting on the vehicle, looking more than ready to get moving. She had a helmet on, as John walked towards her she threw another one at him, catching it, he put it on, sounds of their predators coming behind him, along with the ever present barking of dogs. They were getting close. Getting on swiftly, he wrapped his hands securely around the bars.

"John you're goin' to have t'hold on t'me this time. That is if y'want t'still be on the bike after we get goin'." The teasing was still there, a slight apprehension following that had her back straightening somewhat as she waited for the inevitable contact.

He stared down at her soft leather jacket, a smile coming on his face without hesitation, his arms moving forward as he wrapped them around her, his hands meeting in front of her stomach. Shifting a little she leaned forward, hands reaching outwards for the handlebars.

"And here I thought I was goin' to have t'argue with you." She laughed softly, an easy sound that seemed far from her past discomfort. "Should have known better."

Not waiting for a response she gunned the engine once more, moving in a small circle as she came back forward to where she had disappeared the first time. Pressing a switch, the bike suddenly lurched upwards, the front tire lifting completely off the ground, as it allowed clearance over the small hill. For a moment he thought they were going to slide right back down, that is if they even made it, but looking down he saw the tires, now had small spikes on them, sharp looked things that dug into and clung into the damp ground without effort.

They sped along, but not quite as fast as John would have thought. He could after all still see everything clearly as they passed it, they were going so slow that, unlike the first time he was on it, nothing was blurry or hard to make out. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

"Aren't you going kind of slow? I mean we are being followed by F.O.H, or perhaps you have forgotten?"

"We can't get t'far ahead they might give up on us, and we don't want that." She said, her voice coming through clearly in his helmet.

"Of course not." He said mordantly, his hold around her loosening somewhat as he allowed his body to relax just a little.

"Don't like riding with me Johnny?"

"I usually like to be the one doing the driving."

"Well no one drives this baby but me. Y'wouldn't believe how many scrapes this girl has gotten me through, I wouldn't trust her with _just_ anyone."

"Do I detect an air of possession regarding this thing?" Sure John himself had been rather attached to his car when he had it, it had been his most valuable possession, a thing that he put so much money into as he added one new feature after the next, getting as familiar with the vehicle as he could in the process. Man he missed the thing. More than he wanted to think about. But just because that was true, didn't mean he wasn't past jibing Rogue about it, it was to good an opportunity to pass up, one that was sure to be fun.

"Thing!?" She huffed. "_Jealous_ John?"

"Only every time you touch it." He said sarcastically. Suddenly enjoying how he was so close to Rogue, his fingers flexing under his grip around her. "Just don't tell me you named the thing."

There was no reply to that, but he did hear her talking to someone else. Picking up their pace just a little, the vehicle shook a little as they passed over more of the rugged forestry terrain, trees whipping by more quickly. Some coming so close to them, that he could just reach out and touch one. The whole drive becoming a hell ridden obstacle course until, with another burst of momentum, one that caused his hold to tighten around Rogue, the vehicle raced up an inclined path, nearly flying in the air for a moment until they landed on a empty road, tires spinning momentary underneath them, protesting softly as Rogue swerved, coming to a rather sharp stop.

"We're a little early."

The helmet came off, shaking of a head that had her hair, which was now loose, fall to the side of her face. Swiping it behind her ears, she placed her helmet on the vehicle. Leaning just ever so slightly against him, she turned her head partially to the side.

"Y'can let go now John."

His hands fell unceremoniously off of her, his helmet still on, which hid the slight upturning of his mouth. Yes, he _was _having fun. Maybe it was inappropriate under the circumstances he was in, but that was actually just fine with him.

"But I was just getting comfortable."

"Yes. I _know_."

Getting off the bike, Rogue paused in front of him, reaching forward she took his helmet off.

"But I would recommend not gettin' used to it."

"Anything else you want to help me take off?" He couldn't help it, something about her suddenly flirty demeanor; the things they had gone through in less than an hour, had him boldly saying things, that not a day before he would have dared saying to her.

She shook her head, stepping away from him, a task that wasn't so easy for her, when she found John's hand resting on her upper elbow. Meeting his attentive gaze the two stared at one another. Her looking him over before her attention made it's way back to his face.

"Y'now just because we are together on this doesn't mean we shall partner up in other ways as well." Rogue said with a snap, lacing it with slight dark humor. "Much may have changed over the years, but I am not _that _easy."

Her even saying such a thing, had his brain racing and he couldn't help it when his mouth just wouldn't stay closed. "Did you take the cure as they said?"

She got out of his hold, her eyes narrowed, brow creasing as she smiled faintly, before it turned into a reproachful, almost spiteful frown.

"Y'tell me, y'are the one that worked for someone who kept more info than even _we_ knew about _ourselves_."

She brushed past him, latching the other helmet on the bike. John walked directly being her, placing a hand near the side of her body; he was close enough to almost be making contact, but not quite. He could almost feel tangible energy coming off her, his fingers now touching the bike not even an inch away from her covered skin. Twisting a little, she faced him, head going down to observe his hand on her bike before she brought her gaze almost lazily upwards. Big green eyes met his, soft droplets landing on her pale flesh, ones that gave her face a soft, almost ethereal sheen. He could do nothing but move closer.

But then, whatever he had been about to try to achieve with her, shattered and snapped, disappearing as if it had never been as her attention went to the side. Pushing John away from her Rogue walked past the bike, stopping in front of it, alert and watchful. Her shoulders rising, as she let out a deep sigh.

"She's here."

He saw a speck getting brighter and bolder, lights suddenly engulfing them before they turned off along with the vehicles engine. A custom looking coupe was now in front of them, a yellow vehicle that was so entirely bold and bordering on obscenely bright, that it could only belong to one person.

Jubilee.


	16. Stuck

Fire hot and steady, building as he increased his hold, letting the warmth spread through his body as he fought off their pursuers who had just caught up with them. Why they had to engage them all instead of just continuing forward, was just another part of the seemingly worthless plan. Jubilee was near him, sparks and lights popping and exploding around them. They were trying to provide cover and at the same time keep the Friends of Humanity in check. Rogue was jogging forward, swerving here and there with adept evasiveness, squinting John could barely see her as she continued on her course. She was throwing small metal devices at the vehicles that she passed and also some on the ground. Continually there were bullets being fired, even energy weapons being discharged, but the southerner just continued forward, undaunted, seemingly unstoppable. And yet still..

"You're _worried_ about her." Jubilees voice sang, a sight pause as she punched an individual that had gotten too close. Kicked another as she let off another assault of fireworks. Her long braid swung back and forth before it settled to rest on her shoulder. She wore glitter on her eyelids and face, red lipstick that was accentuated with the way her mouth was twisted in a smirk. "I didn't know you were capable of such a _true_ emotion."

"I am Not. Worried." He said through gritted teeth as he intensified his wall of protective fire. No way was anyone else going to get through. Unfortunately it meant he could no longer watch out for Rogue. "But she _is_ going to get hurt."

_She's not invincible, not unstoppable. _

"You _don't_ know her." Jubilee said, in a rather accusing tone, one that was filled with an almost pleasurable surprise. Taking a couple steps back she wiped her sweaty face with her jacket sleeve, the yellow thing seeming oddly out of place with the rest of her obscure dark outfit. "She can handle herself."

_But she does seems to know what she is doing. A thing I shouldn't find quite so.. hot._

"I didn't say that sh.." He started, stopping abruptly when Jubilee shot in, her usual cutting in of a conversation not having diminished or faded over the years; a rather annoying habit that had, in his younger years- along with many other grating qualities that the girl seemed full of, kept him as far away from the her, when possible.

"And do you have to have this thing so freekin' hot?" She pointed towards their protective barrier of fire, obviously displeased. "It's singeing my hair!"

"I like it hot." He said simply, a rather pleasant feeling curling inside his gut. Stopping for a minute he rolled down his long sleeves as if to prove the point. Then after exhaling softly he raised his left hand picking up where he left of, it was still sprinkling softly, which was making his job a little more difficult, but not impossible. "Besides it _does _stop the bullets."

"Doesn't mean it needs to ruin my hair."

He could here the ever present pout in her voice, felt her taking a couple more steps backwards. Shrugging his shoulders he directed an agitated stare her way, one that she met head on.

"_That _is just an _added_ bonus."

It was her turn to give him an acidic stare, as she scowled deeply.

"How about you drop the stupid excuse for protection and let me do my job!"

John's eyes wandered across her form ending up at her mussed but rather made up face, and then her eyes that were alive with agitation, ones that were accentuated by her now running mascara.

"And what job would _that_ be?"

Obviously not liking his attitude, her hand came forward, the movement so quick and unexpected that he could do nothing but be bombarded by sudden burst of stinging lights. He stumbled back a ways, his vision spotty.

"Extinguish the thing. Now!"

John had been about to before she even brought the subject up, for he was ready for a little more interaction, but now, after her request and using her ability against him, his stubbornness took hold of him, settling onto his mouth, which was now pressed tightly together.

_How did I get stuck with Her exactly? No car. On a wanted list. Being hunted. Oh. Yeah. And how is __this__ any better?_

"How about you try that again, and _perhaps_ I will consider using my abilities in a different manner." He waved his hand around, fire jumping off the field to dance around the edges of his fingers. "Say in burning that jacket of yours. Where did you get that anyway? Makethempuke dot com?"

Her eyes widened with that, her body straightening as her arms came across her chest, only to fall back down to her side.

"Go ahead and try _Pyro_. But I guarantee if you do, the very last thing you will see _is_ me using my powers."

"As if you are even capable of such a _bad_ thing." He chuckled, rolling his eyes at her. "As if Xavier didn't scrub that _all_ out of you."

Jubilee lifted up her head, her chin ridged. Ignoring what he just said, she backtracked to what he said previously, responding with harsh exasperation.

"Yeah, well at least I _have_ a sense of fashion! I mean _what_ is with those striped pants? You _do_ know they went out of fashion when Al Capone got sent to prison!" She exhaled loudly out of her nose as she examined his apparel. "What? They have a sale at the salvation army?" Her mouth curved up on the side, her eyelids lowering as she kept her gaze on him.

"Your idea of good clothes is something that makes you a walking bulls eye?" He covered his eyes for a moment, as if he couldn't stand looking at her. "How is it that you are _still _alive anyway?"

Her chin came further up with that comment, her mouth opening in a small angry O. Fingers wrapping around her jacket on the bottom, the shiny fabric scrunching up before she released it when she found her words.

"Keep it up Fireboy!" She brought her hands up in front of her, eyes narrowing. "All I see right now is a soon to be blind man!"

"All I _hear_ is a whiny little X-men who doesn't know when to shut up." Twisting he intensified more of the fire, bringing it in front of him, a small ball of heat between them. The thing dimming and then fading almost as suddenly as it appeared when a voice range through his headset, one that was full of very evident frustration.

"How about both of y'shut up, before I hurt y'both!" Rogue grunted softly before continuing. "And the next time y'guys have an argument y'might want t'consider turnin' your com's off."

Jubilee took on a wry look, one that was beyond mischievous.

"Probably Pyro's doing, shouldn't give such a device to a person that doesn't even know how to make a proper force field. I bet that he.."

Rogue interrupted, yet not as quickly as John believed she could have.

"I'm finished with the Nrs deployments y'might want t'prepare yourselves. I'm activating their electrical overload in 15 seconds, and I don't want to drag your unconscious bodies t'the car." There was a pause, and John could hear the smile she was probably wearing in what she said next. "Although the silence _would_ be an added improvement."

John and Jubilee continued to stare fixedly at one another, neither willing to act first.

".. make that ten seconds."

Both waited till the very last second before they each reached towards their wrist, activating their neutralizers.

* * *

Smoke. Always the after affect of John's powers. He had learned to love it, the stickiness it could have, the way it could cling to something, infusing a burnt fragrance onto anything porous. Cloudy it could be, tangible just barely. It could also be a thing he trusted when he needed to make a retreat.

But he also liked being around when it appeared, watching the thickness build before the inevitable took over as, with currents of fresh air, it was pushed, throttled and put out of existence. Yet, not quite yet. Jubilee was coughing behind him, waving her hands widely about her as she tried to ward of the wisps of dark air.

_Now that is funny._

He snickered as he breathed deep, undaunted as the air stung down his throat. Sometimes he believed it was the only way to breath, his body long accustomed to the smoke, more than ready to turn his inhaling into an adrenaline rush of sorts, one that left the blood flowing more easily through his veins.

Catching movement out of the corner of his left eye, he turned, watching as a figure came through the thick dark fog, an almost blur of a form that sharpened as the air cleared slowly. It was Rogue. Her pace steady, yet not too quick, her head turning this way and that until her eyes found his. John's breathing stopping momentarily as the smoke caressed and covered her, swirling around her as she walked through it. He was mesmerized, struck once more by her beauty, even with what look like dirt on her cheeks, soft perspiration lining her face, her skin white, the color returning slowly with every step she took.

Allowing the area to clear, he expelled the smoke around them. The smell of ash and dampness was the only thing left, and when Rogue stopped in front of him, he couldn't help but get whiffs of it coming directly off of her. He strangled the smile that was trying to take over and manipulate his lips.

_Definitely hot._

"It's done. We did it." Rogue said, her eyes narrowed, her voice tightly thin. She had taken her jacket off, the article of clothing clenched tightly underneath her left hand, resting behind her back almost out of view.

Able to see clearly John looked behind him, vehicles overturned with stray pieces scattered, bodies all over the ground, weapons discarded here and there. When Rogue had been telling him about the Nr devices, he hadn't thought they would have been capable of such an outcome.

"Can't say the Doctor doesn't know his stuff." She said, her comment directed at Jubilee, who nodded her head almost dumbly. "Their vehicles have been destroyed, their weapons trashed, and I don't think any of them will be walkin' straight anytime soon."

She looked at each on of them in turn slowly, before walking past them both. Her sentence trailing behind her.

"So. Should we get out of here before their backup arrives or do y'guys want t'continue squabbling?"


	17. Changing Weather

_An Ice Cream shop_. That was where they ended up. When Rogue had finally slowed down, flipped on her signal and started to turn into the parking lot, for a moment, he almost started to laugh, of course that was stopped when Jubilee, who seemed to know what he was about to do, turned her head around, looking past the passenger seat as she gave him a haughty look, her mouth twisted her eyebrows pointed.

Jubilee then preceded to jump out of the car, not allowing it to fully stop, running forward she opened the glass door to the place, practically sprinting to the counter where she sat down on a stool, grabbing the woman's attention behind the old fashion counter as she looked to be ordering.

Yet John remained, for one, Jubilee had done something to the chair in front of him, the thing would not bend downwards, and since Rogue happened to still be seated, he was virtually stuck in the back.

"Coming in John?" Rogue looked at him from the car's mirror, giving him a small smile. He saw at some point she must of put gloss on, for her lips were shiny. The smudges that had been on her face earlier, were also gone. "They have _great_ hot fudge sundaes."

'You're kidding me right? I mean ice cream? This is the _safe_ place!"

She angled around in her seat after she turned the car off, and opened her door. John immediately felt the wind, some rain landing on his jacket sleeve.

"Are y'tryin' t'say somethin' is wrong with ice cream?" She stared at him for a minute, almost as if studying him.

There were so many ways to answer that, _all_ of them negative. Living with a roommate during his teens who inhaled the stuff more than oxygen was enough to make him hate the sight of it. Having a training session where Magneto had left him in a cold locker, surrounded by cartons of the stuff, telling him he was to get out of the place without melting an ounce of the stuff; a condition that left him stuck in the cold for a good hour and forty minutes, and had him feeling so numb that when he did finally get out of the human freezer he couldn't even activate his mutation for two hours- was yet another good reason for him hating the ice cold desert.

"This is where you guys meet?" He asked, blinking away the memories, not even going to the one that involved Alaska, a place that really had nothing to do with ice cream, but everything to do with him nearly freezing to death.

Before she could answer, another car pulled up alongside them; a rather dull looking Saturn that had seen better days. When Gambit jumped out of the driver's side, followed by Quicksilver on the otherside, he couldn't help but chuckle at their pathetic ride.

"Well Chere?" Gambit ambled immediately over to Rogue, opening her door wider as he offered her a hand. "What'cha say we get y'out of de rain, dis is not place for a femme t'be sittin'. Might catch your death."

He listened to the Cajun's tone, surprised there was no mockery or hidden innuendoes, only true concern, John was somewhat curious why he was showing any at all. The girl seemed quite capable of taking care of herself. Hell, she had even outdone him that night.

Rogue studied the outstretched hand for a couple long moments, Quicksilver glancing at John as he rolled his eyes.

"I can get out _myself_ swamprat, I ain't an invalid."

Gambit backed up, motioned with his hands for her to go right ahead. Grabbing her keys, she got up, her gaze going to her coat that was bunched up behind her. She pulled the sleeves back, ones that had been resting on John's shoes. He found something strange in her actions, but before he could think anything further about it, she was leaning the chair forward allowing him to get out.

"Kinda cramped back dere isn't it?" Gambit said, eyebrows rising as he smiled wide. John ignored him for a minute as he leaned forward, now that Rogue was out of view, he had his own mission to perform. Stretching a ways he touched the panel to the cd player, ejecting the disk, the same one he had seem Jubilee put in earlier. He shook his head as he looked down at the thing, noticing that it was indeed the girl band he thought it was, just hearing it, even at low volume that Rogue had turned it down to, was enough for him to spontaneously combust. It was more than a little pleasing for him when he used it as a Frisbee, as he tossed the thing out the car.

"Y'do know de petite has plenty more of those."

"Well at least that is one less."

The Cajun shook his head, dark red eyes burning with mirth.

"Y'havn't seen de petite's collection."

John got out of the back seat, looking at the coupe, it took him a couple second to realize that no longer was the coupe the ostentatious yellow that he had first seen, but now it was a gleaming dark green. His vision drifted to the trunk, knowing Rogue's bike was folded neatly inside it, he had never seen a motorcycle collapse like that, nor actually been able to life one up all by himself, something that was asked of him by Rogue before they drove away.

John was really starting to envy the way the X-men had so many gadgets and tricked up vehicles, he hadn't been around so many advanced and technical things since he left Magneto. Yet even his inventions had been more subtle, more of something that would be of advantage to certain mutations, or prevent problems arising from their weaknesses.

Hearing Gambit walking away from him, he followed after, his thoughts still active as he wondered just what kind of metal the bike had been made of, and if it was as durable as Rogue boasted it was. Perhaps, before he left he would obtain one of the things for himself. Along with a couple other items he was starting to add to a list in his head.

From where he was John could see the Pietro had opened the door wide, he hadn't even noticed the guy leave, but there he was holding the glass thing for Rogue, or so he thought, just when she was about to go through, he let go of the door as if he had lost his patience, the action causing the Southerner's nose to almost get swiped.

Rogue stood there for a moment, hands clenching into fists before she reached forward once more, harsh words muttered under her breath. Gambit made a show of getting the thing for her, but she swiped his hand away, actually growling at him as she grabbed on the door herself, disappearing inside.

Gambit just shrugged. A smile lifting on the corner of his mouth.

"Femmes." He said, eyebrows lifting on his forehead. He caught the closing door deftly with his hand, throwing it wide they walked through. Both watched as Rogue walked behind Pietro, neither surprised when she slapped him hard on the back of his head, as she passed by him.

"Hey! What did you do that for?" He rubbed the back of his head, fingers lost in white hair.

"For bein' a jerk and not holdin' the door open for me!" She lashed out over her shoulder, stopping she sat down next to Jubilee, twisting on the stool until she faced her offender.

"I can't help it if you are slow!"

"_Yeah? " _She huffed. "Do that _again_ and they'll be callin' y'Stumpysilver."

The argument was forgotten when Rogue started to place her order. Once again John felt bitterness rise up in him when Gambit quickly sat down on the stool beside Rogue, sideswiping John as he did so. The long leather jacket trailing behind the Cajun was almost too much temptation, especially since a well maneuvered step could tug on thing, causing some sort of chaos he was sure. But he didn't. Probably because somewhere in between that almost acted on impulse, Rogue had glanced at him, eyes sparkling, mouth crinkling as she laughed at whatever Jubilee had just said.

Yet, the violent desires resurfaced again, when John realized he was stuck next to Pietro, for just watching the guy eat was enough to make someone dizzy not to mention nauseous. He looked behind him, realizing that the speedster showing off in such a way, was definitely not good for any of their health, but John saw that the four of them were the only ones there, and that the sign was turned to open, which meant closed was displayed to everyone else outside.

"Did you want something?" The waiter, a plump middle aged woman, one with droopy eyelids and thin lips asked John. "Well honey?"

"Got anything besides ice cream?"

"Sorry Hun, but the soda machine has already been cleaned out for the night, and the grill closed an hour ago, I can put together a ham sandwich for you if your hungry."

His mood overshadowed with even more grumpiness, and it didn't help that Pietro kept trying to monopolize the waitress's attention, as he kept waving at her, pointing at his sundae.

"Nothing. I don't want anything." He grumped.

"Good." Pietro cut in. "I'll take another double fudge Julie, and add a little cocoanut to it this time would you?"

The woman smiled, wrinkles disappearing momentarily. She grabbed one of his empty bowls.

"Sure thing Sweety."

John twisted in his chair, glaring.

"What?" The speedster asked, his spoon going quickly across the bottom of the second sundae bowl as he tried to get the liquidly remains on the utensil.

"You _disgust_ me!" John spat, jumping off the stool he crashed at one of the empty tables. His attention drifting out the windows, bitter contemplations starting. He _hated_ being stuck, and stuck at an ice cream shop frustrated him to no end. He had actually traveled past the same restaurant before, and knew that not even a mile past there was a bar where many F.O.H. members frequented, probably because their building was just up the street from it. Yet, the place he was seated in was considered safe?

"Here."

A plate was slid in front of him, one that held a cheeseburger and fresh onion rings, something he had always preferred to french fries, but of course, Rogue who had brought it to him, knew that.

"Thought the grill was closed."

Rogue smiled lightly.

"Nothin' a little _charm_ can't change."

He waited for her to sit down, waited for her to say something more to him, but instead after one long glance out the clouded over window, she walked towards the back of the place, probably to the bathroom.

Grabbing ketchup, his spirits suddenly lighter he dug into the food, letting the others fade away as every once and a while he checked to see if Rogue had returned. The others were talking loudly, joking and fooling around. He saw Jubilee shoving french fries down her throat, Pietro working on his forth sundae and Gambit, the last he had seen of him he was talking on his cell phone back in the grill area.

Putting down his last onion ring, he stood to his feet. He has seen a water fountain at the back when he first arrived and didn't feel like asking for a glass of water. Running a quick hand through his hair, small flakes of debris sticking to his fingers, he figured he could probably clean up a little as well.

John didn't know why he felt tense as his feet took him forwards past the counter, yet he found himself, after rounding the counter, coming to an abrupt stop, backing up a ways so that he couldn't be seen.

It was Gambit and Rogue.

She was leaning against the wall, and the Cajun was right in front of her, right hand resting above her waist, the other holding her gloved hand. Rogue tried to tug away every once and a while, but she was held firm and she really didn't seen _that _intent on getting away. They were both talking frantically, Rogue was shaking her head firmly, something that sounded like an explanation or reason flowing out of her. Gambit stepped closer to her, his voice low as he whispered.

For a moment John felt it, stronger and bolder, a feeling he had felt many a time in his life, but never so pronounced or unmistakably there.

Jealousy.

He barely managed to backup and make it back to his table unnoticed when the two came back, the Cajun's hand resting familiarly against the back of Rogue's elbow.

John watched as she went to Jubilee, a couple words exchanged as the Asian stood up, she walked back with Rogue, her and Gambit trading glances before he went to one of the back tables. He looked agitated and worried, his jaw set firmly, attention still directed at the Southerner. Pulling out a carton of cigarettes, he put one in his mouth, only to take it out and put it back in the box.

The two walked out then, Jubilee seemingly tugging Rogue forward, she reached into the Southerner's pocket pulling out a bunch of keys, pressing a button the doors unlocked. Both got into the car and then with a wailing of the tires, the vehicle was thrown in reverse by Jubilee who was now driving. The car screeched once more as they came to a quick stop, the pyrotechnic putting a small headphone on her ear, which she was already talking into, rather exasperated by the look of it. Before John could focus on Rogue, they were gone.

He threw the rest of his cheeseburger down, getting up he walked to where Gambit was now seated, flopping down in front of him.

"And _that_ was?"

The Cajun was obviously distracted, his gaze out the window, it was still drizzling, a soft downpour that made the night almost seem alive.

"_That was about_?!" He repeated again, enunciating his words, his tone louder than before.

Gambit turned to him, the worry disappearing expertly from his face as he smiled wide. He slipped his cigarettes into one of the many pockets that lined the inside of his jacket, tugging on his collar he stared lazily in John's direction.

'Nothin' y'need t'worry about Johhny boy, dey just have a couple tings t'take care of."

John rolled his eyes as he left out a puff of loud air.

"Yeah right. They just _suddenly_ had things to do. When Rogue herself said we were to wait here?!"

"Like Gambit said, nothin' t'concern yourself 'bout." His words were more firm, and there was some sort of threat behind them as well, but that didn't stop John. Nothing usually did.

"Really? They just run out of here like their late for someone's funeral and you say nothing to worry about!" He snickered, fingers clenching on the edge of the table. He felt his blood pressure rising, felt heat pressing underneath his skin.

The Cajun straightened in his seat, shoulders rising and staying in a straight line, his eyes narrowed, mouth set firm before it opened.

But no words followed. Especially not when Cyclops came bursting in the small restaurant, Jeza following behind, along with an elderly black woman in a F.O.H. uniform.

* * *

The minute Scott walked in, Pietro rushed off his stool, going behind the counter he pressed a button, the windows suddenly covered with thick blinds that slid down.

Scott surveyed the room quickly, obviously noticing that Jubilee and Rogue weren't there, but it seemed he knew why, for he said nothing.

It got very quiet in the room, the waitress made a discreet exit, and Pietro went blindingly fast back over to the stool, his view immediately re-directed at the old woman, who was just now taking her hat off, followed by her jacket which she unzipped and then threw on the back of a nearby chair.

"Jeza?" Scott whispered.

The name was said as some sort of a request, and for a moment John didn't know what was going on. But then Jeza stepped toward who he believed was the rescued informant, placing her hands against the person's temples.

"Are you ready?" She asked the woman, her response given by the quick uplifting of the woman's chin. Jeza's eyes started to glow for a moment, before she tightly closed them.

And the elderly woman started to change. Slowly she became taller, her back not so crooked, hair growing out until it was long and stretched out behind her, fingers becoming longer, nails extending, body firming up. It wasn't until the hair started to change color, from the dark grayish black to an intense white, that John realized who the woman actually was.

The person turned, opening her eyes and practically smiling as she looked down at her fingers, her hands then going slowly down the sides of her body as if it was unfamiliar territory.

"Storm?" He said to no one in particular, his old instructor standing just a couple feet away from him, now wearing a loose uniform, that most definitely no longer fit her. "We did all _that_ to rescue _Storm!_?"

Jeza smiled at him, walking over she sat down on the table between him and Gambit, making sure her arm brushed against him as she did so. But John didn't notice, he was far too busy staring at the scene in front of him.

"Well that was certainly the _longest_ couple of months of my life." Ororo said, her words directed at Scott, who she went over and hugged. "Remind me to think twice before volunteering for something like that _ever_ again."


End file.
